


Moments

by Bruteaous



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Potentially AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-23 11:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3766603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bruteaous/pseuds/Bruteaous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaw comes back and just some non-linear, random moments in the lives of our favorite ladies and Team Machine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. But I miss you more than I thought I would

**Author's Note:**

> *I shouldn’t start anything new, I already have too many logs in the fire, I shouldn’t start something new*- the mantra that was repeating over and over and over in my head as I wrote this, but it didn’t stop me. Every day, I find myself getting sidetracked by thoughts of the big picture: of aging and time passing and people leaving and dying and fading in and out of memories and what that means or if it means anything at all and I am just wasting my time distracting myself from living because I wish I knew more about life....Anyway, that is where this came from. Just little moments between our favorite ladies. Enjoy and drop a thought or two on your way out. OH and I also sometimes take prompts if anyone would like to volunteer them, but that is another story. Shoo, go read!

Mornings in the city were still cold enough to wear a jacket in. Samaritan had been keeping suspiciously silent for around a month and its key operatives were also laying low, which was more worrying than it was encouraging. It was a Saturday and Harold was supposed to be at his cover identity’s suburban home grading papers, but instead he’d caught a train into the city, bought a copy of the Times and the Wall Street Journal as well as a cherry scone from the closest café (and some doggy danish for bear). Now, he was sequestered at his desk down in the subway station starting his weekend the same way he started every free day and every evening after work.

 

The Machine had given them their latest number twenty minutes or so ago and he was gathering the intel necessary to situate John perfectly in the lawyer’s life temporarily until they’d figured out whether he needed to be stopped or saved. He was so caught up in his work that he didn’t notice a new presence entering the station. Only Bear’s barking pulled him out of his research in time to see who was coming.

 

“I hope you’re not working too hard, Harold. You might strain something.”

 

Root marched casually closer, the heels on her boots clicking loudly against the floor tiles as she approached.

 

“Miss Groves,” Harold greeted turning around in his chair to face her.

 

The hacker didn’t begrudge Harold for his lack of enthusiasm. She’d been gone for a month, off doing only the Machine knows what. They probably hadn’t even known for sure if she was still alive. They’d just hoped that she was.

 

“Sorry to drop in unannounced,” Root said, “but She says this number of yours will be a doozy and you could use the extra help so who am I to say no.”

 

“I can only imagine how busy the Machine has been keeping you this past month,” Harold replied, keeping his voice characteristically neutral. “Even so, I’m glad the Machine could spare you to help us this time.”

 

“Don’t be jealous, Harry.” Root said, in a voice so coated in honey it stuck to everything it touched. “Just because She’s been spending all of her time with me, doesn’t mean She doesn’t still love you too.”

 

Harold regarded her quietly for a moment and Root turned away from his scrutiny, focusing instead on Bear who was watching her expectantly. Since they’d lost Sameen at the NYSE, the tall brunette’s entire demeanor had changed. John and Lionel had noticed it too. She’d stopped making witty quips at inappropriate moments. She’d stopped smiling that wide, shit eating grin that sometimes masqueraded itself as being demure to anyone who didn’t know her and she’d aged a little around the eyes as though Shaw’s absence had taken a physical toll upon her as well.

 

So Harold found it odd that not only was Root back, but she seemed to be entirely back to her old self, or maybe too much like her old self as if she were an actress on a stage playing an overstated interpretation of the woman they used to know. He watched her as she bent down and scratched Bear on both sides of his head like Shaw used to do and noted how her smile fell a little as she did so.

 

“Any new leads?” He asked after a time, not needing to be specific for Root to know what or rather ‘who’ he was referring to.

 

Root’s smile fell entirely into a defeated sort of frown. She finished lavishing Bear with attention and stood back up. She looked at Harold but didn’t speak, just shook her head minutely.

 

“Miss Groves…” Harold started, but Root cut him off.

 

“Save it, Harry. I know what you’re going to say and it won’t work. I won’t stay here and join you and John in going on with your lives like she never even existed.”

 

Harold huffed in annoyance, standing and limping a couple of steps nearer to her so that he was now a little closer to her eye level.

 

“It’s very selfish of you to think that you have been the only one of us that was affected by what happened to Ms. Shaw,” Harold scolded her. “Just because Mr. Reese and I have returned to saving the numbers on a daily basis doesn’t mean that we miss her any less than you do.”

 

“That’s right, Harold,” Root baited, not enjoying the patronizing tone his voice had taken on, “blame me. I loved her and I couldn’t handle letting her go and moving on with my life and that makes me selfish because I can’t put aside my emotions and be a hero, but I don’t care. Nothing matters anymore.”

 

“You can’t mean that Ms. Groves or you wouldn’t still be working for the Machine. You’re angry about what happened at the exchange, we all are—”

 

“I’m not angry, I am in pain!” the tall brunette shouted.

 

The sheer, shrill volume to Root’s voice made Harold stop in his tracks.

 

“Sameen’s gone!” Root yelled, “she kissed me and then she just ran off to die. How am I supposed to live with that, Harold? Can you tell me because I don’t know how.”

 

Bear padded over to the pair from his dog bed, confused by the arguing voices. He hovered near them both in the tense silence that followed, unsure of which one to go to just like a child who’s unsure of which distraught parent they should comfort after a fight.

 

“And the punch line,” Root paused, trying to keep the shine of tears out of her eyes, filling Harold with a sense of déjà vu, “is that your Machine keeps telling me what we need to do to save the world, but she won’t tell me how to save the one person I want to.”

 

“You said yourself that war requires sacrifice,” Harold reminded her with the somber resignation of someone who was quoting a law he didn’t believe in.

 

“Not her, Harold!” Root replied in a tone that somehow seemed smaller, more hollow than the voice she usually carried. “It was never supposed to be her. It was supposed to be me.”

 

“Root…”

 

“I just can’t talk about her right now, Harry. Please,” Root pleaded.

 

“Very well,” Harold conceded. “What can I do for you then?”

 

“In addition to helping you with your current number, the Machine’s recruiting again.” Root explained, taking a deep breath and getting back to business. “She needs you to help me get the attention of someone very important.”

 

“More important than Caleb Phipps?” Harold asked, narrowing his eyes as if skeptical of her motives.

 

“Everyone has their talents including your new number,” Root deflected easily, seeming more like the flippant killer for hire Harold had once met at gun point than she had in a year and a half.

 

Harold limped back over to his computer chair and sat down. Root walked into the subway car to retrieve a few odds and ends before she would no doubt leave again and Bear went back to his dog bed and lay down. Suddenly, there was a loud clang from above them—the sort that was usually heard when the ancient candy machine door guarding the entrance to their hideaway slammed shut after someone entered their sanctuary.

 

“Expecting company, Harry?” Root asked rhetorically, walking out of the subway car already brandishing one of her handguns as she moved in front of Harold.

 

There was a second metallic creak, then the sounds of an audible scuffle on the stairs, then a gunshot, and a very familiar grunt of exertion. Even with the verbal cue, neither one of them were ready to greet the two bodies tumbling down the stairs in a tangled mess. One was a very recently deceased Jeremy Lambert, the body struggling to get out from beneath his weight was a very bloody, slightly pale, and completely pissed off Sameen Shaw.

 

“Sameen,” Root breathed, letting her gun drop fully to her side.

 

Shaw looked up through the haze of blood and sweat, fighting to catch her breath. She took in Root’s disbelieving demeanor and the recent dusting of grey that had crept into Harold’s hair in the past few months and Bear’s anxious whining as he padded over to lick her face.

 

“You guys still look like crap,” she said, running her fingers through Bear’s fur and not having the strength to push him away from her even if she had wanted to.

 

After a few seconds, Sameen felt herself giving into her exhaustion. She’d fought her way out of a Decima compound in Jersey and spent the next twenty-four hours running on fumes to get back into the city, all the while being pursued ruthlessly by Jeremy Lambert and Martine. She’d put a bullet in the blonde bitch. That had been satisfying. Maybe Sameen had killed her, maybe she hadn’t, it was all a blur. Then Lambert had been stupid enough to trail her through the city until she’d arrived at their subway station and by that point she had been more than happy to kill him.

 

But that kill had taken a lot out of her and Sameen slumped back against the subway’s tiled wall not registering Harold’s worried exclamation of, “Miss Shaw!” Or the way Root rushed forward to catch her before she could slide off of the landing as her eyes closed and the whole world faded to black.

 

O8O8O8O8O

 

“Short stop looks like she’s been through hell and then some,” Lionel stated the obvious, standing a short distance away from the foot of the hospital bed they’d rigged for Shaw at the safe house.

 

When John had been called to help transport Shaw, they’d found out that not all of the blood on her was her own, but some of it was. A bullet graze was bleeding from her upper shoulder and another gunshot wound was open in her abdomen. Finch had called Dr. Enright and so far she’d removed the bullet in Shaw’s gut and had set up an IV to administer saline and one to start replenishing the liters of blood Sameen had lost in her bid for freedom.

 

“She’ll bounce back. Shaw’s tough,” John said, watching as Dr. Enright insinuated the twin prongs of the nasal cannula in Shaw’s nose to increase her oxygen intake until she regained consciousness. “How’s it looking doctor?”

 

Root stood away from all of them, arms crossed over her chest as she scrutinized the doctor’s actions. She was as close to Sameen as John and Lionel, but she still felt hundreds of miles away, unsure of what to do with herself now that the person she’d been searching for was finally right in front of her.

 

“She’s lost a lot of blood.” Maddie said, straightening up and looking at each member of the team in turn. “That will take some time to replenish and honestly I should be scolding you for not taking her to a hospital for proper treatment with her injuries, but since I owe all of you for my life, I’m going to let that slide for now.”

 

“We would appreciate your discretion,” Harold added, carrying a tray with a kettle of freshly brewed mint-chocolate tea and cups into the room and setting it down on the small coffee table in the middle of the living space.

 

“When will she wake up?” Root asked, her voice quiet as she kept her gaze locked on Shaw’s unmoving form.

 

“Honestly, whenever her body decides it’s ready,” the doctor explained. “Everyone heals at their own pace. For most people a GSW like the one she sustained to her abdomen would keep a person in recovery for 1-4 weeks after surgery depending on the likelihood of infection and the severity of soft tissue damage, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she was back on her feet much sooner than that. She seems like a fighter.”

 

“She is,” Root agreed softly, hating the pity in the doctor’s eyes as the hacker continued to regard Shaw like she might disappear again at any moment.

 

“The important thing is that we have her back,” John said. “Everything else will come in time.”

 

Harold smiled, even though it didn’t reach his eyes, and gestured to the tray he’d just brought into the room. “Tea, Dr. Enright?”

 

John and Lionel left to go back to the precinct after that. Dr. Enright stayed for only a few minutes longer before following them out and Harold found some menial excuse having to do with his cover identity to get away from the stifling atmosphere that had settled over the safe house, which left Root alone with an unconscious Shaw and the consistent beep of the heart monitor for company. She plopped down in the hard wooden chair she’d pulled up to the side of the bed and sat there, staring at Sameen in a way that Shaw would have told her was creepy had she been awake until Harold called and she had to leave the safe house again to help John with their number.

 

It was dark outside by the time she got back. John had looked like he’d wanted to accompany her back to the safe house to check on Shaw, but he didn’t protest when Root insisted she go alone. The Machine hadn’t arranged for Root to stay anywhere else while she was back in the city so the same place where Shaw was, seemed as good as any.

 

It felt strange to say the least. Root had never had a home to call her own—not since she’d left Bishop and that ratty little hovel her mother had moved them to could barely be counted as one. However, Harold’s safe house with Sameen inside felt as close to an actual home as Root was ever going to get and after months without Shaw, Root could accept that.

 

The safe house door closed and locked automatically behind her as she entered, dropping a few bags of things onto the island counter in the kitchen. She’d stopped by a few of Sameen’s favorite take out places. On the off chance that Shaw woke up soon, she would no doubt be hungry and one of Root’s favorite past times was watching Shaw eat. The unrestrained, lustful zeal with which she attacked her food allowed Root to imagine the way Shaw would throw herself into other pleasurable activities like sex and lend herself to imagining how violently passionate Sameen could be. She’d seen glimpses of that promising fervor when Shaw would look at her in the middle of a firefight, pupils blown with both adrenaline and desire.

 

Quietly, Root shook off the memory of those heated looks that had made her heart leap into her throat and hope explode in her chest and unpacked the Styrofoam containers of food from their plastic bags, arranging them neatly in the nearly empty fridge. With that done she made her way into the main living area. The safe house covered the entire floor of an empty office building owned by one of Harold’s aliases. The floorplan was largely open, though there was a loft above everything, a balcony, and multiple rooms that could hold anyone needing to lay low for as long as they needed to.

 

Root had always admired the expensive furnishings. They weren’t particularly her style, but she knew they were Harold’s and it was interesting, having the high end tastes of the usually illusive billionaire on display for her scrutiny. Shaw’s hospital bed had been set up in a corner of the spacious main floor, away from the leather furniture in a corner beside one of the widows where blackout drapes were drawn against the night and Samaritan’s prying eyes. The hacker took up her position in the hard backed chair she’d pulled up to Shaw’s bedside before.

 

Sameen hadn’t moved since she’d lost consciousness in the subway. She looked only slightly different than Root remembered: somehow leaner, maybe a little more gaunt but still just as strong and fierce as she’d always been. If only she would only wake up so that Root could know for herself that Shaw was okay. Half the battle had been getting her back, but winning the war would only happen for Root at this point when Shaw opened her eyes. Root watched Sameen carefully for a couple of hours, re-familiarizing herself with the sharp attractive features she had been missing for months and cataloguing ever shallow breath Shaw took.

 

Root looked down at her boots, trying for the hundredth time since Shaw had sacrificed herself not to dwell on how everything that had happened was her fault and failing. The change when it came was almost so subtle that Root missed it completely as Sameen’s breathing became less even, more alert. Finally she looked up again and found eyes like dark stars staring back at her thoughtfully.

 

“Sameen…” Root was afraid to breath too loud, afraid one wayward gasp of air would cause the apparition of the woman she’d spent months fighting for blow away.

 

Shaw cleared her throat and when she spoke her voice sounded rougher around the edges than Root remembered, but it had that familiar deep timbre that made her heart lurch forward in her chest.

 

“Yes,” Shaw said so quietly Root would have missed it if she hadn’t been so attuned to the woman laying in front of her

 

“Yes, what?” Root asked, after a time, not able to let the silence drone on between them even if it was comfortable now that she finally had her gloriously grumpy firecracker back, “Sameen?”

 

“Yes,” Sameen continued slowly as if almost regretting what she was admitting to, “we’re good together...but don’t…let it go to your head. You’re still the same…pain in the ass you’ve always been.”

 

And Root couldn’t help it: she laughed, dark eyes dancing with a shine of tears that for the first time in months were the product of joy, not grief. She smiled down at Shaw, the warmth from her expression radiating off of the hacker like she was her own sun and despite herself, Sameen leaned imperceptibly closer to the light she’d missed.

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Root said, tilting her head to the side and grinning like a fool in love.

 

And she was.


	2. Kalashnikovs Are Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw doesn't do birthdays, but luckily for her, Root doesn't listen to everything Shaw says....

“Root, what the hell is this?”

 

Shaw didn’t do birthdays. On the contrary, she’d spent most of her life avoiding celebrations of the passage of time. A year was just another year. Honestly, who cared? Apparently, Root did. Against all of her warnings and frequent threats, Root hadn’t backed down and now Shaw found herself staring at a well wrapped box with a small hole in one side too little to have any apparent use.  

 

“I told you I don’t do birthdays,” Shaw grumbled.

 

“There are exceptions to every rule, Sameen,” the voice in her ear chirped.

 

Root wasn’t there. She was still out on a mission for the Machine, but somehow she’d made time to break into Shaw’s apartment and leave the gift behind. There was no card, but a card wasn’t necessary. Only one person had the audacity to break into Sameen Shaw’s apartment with the promise of certain death looming over their heads. Harold and John wouldn’t have taken the risk, though she doubted they weren’t aware of what day it was or that day’s significance in the grand scheme of things.

 

“Open it, Sameen,” the smooth voice that both annoyed her to no end and stirred all of her darker instincts cooed over the line. “You’ll like it I promise.”

 

The box took that moment to shake as whatever was inside moved.

“What the— ?”

 

Shaw bent over and pulled the lid off of the box. Staring back up at her was a little brindle colored ball of fur with ears nearly too big for its head. Immediately, the puppy started whining excitedly when it saw her.

 

“Oh, Sweetie,” Shaw whispered in the compassionate tone she only ever reserved for her canine friends, rushing forward and picking up the dog. “Did that mean old lady leave you in this box and close the lid. Poor baby.”

 

The dog started licking her chin as she cradled it close to her chest.

 

“No, the mean, young lady did,” Root corrected from over the line, not able to see the amused smile as it formed on Shaw’s face. “How do you like your present, Sameen?”

 

Shaw side stepped the question, scratching the puppy behind its ears, “what kind of dog is she?”

 

“She’s a Dutch Shepherd and she’s all yours.”

 

“No, no way you get a dog and shove all of the responsibility off on me. You got her, you’re doing half the work. She’s our dog.”

 

Shaw paused as silence filed the line, realizing too late how that sounded.  Luckily for her, Root chose not to tease her about it just this once.

 

“Whatever you say, Sweetie.” There was a muffled sound on the other end of the line, something that sounded a lot like someone was stuck inside of something and trying to kick their way out, “Now, now, Thomas what did we talk about? Behave yourself and I might let you out to play.”

 

Another kick and a muffled shout was her answer.

 

“Are you kidnapping someone?” Shaw asked, sitting down on the sofa with the puppy still on her lap.

 

“Rescuing them,” Root corrected.

 

“Whatever,” Shaw rolled her eyes. “So what are we going to call little the mutt here?”

 

“Well, not 'the mutt', that’s for sure.” Root answered. “I was thinking about Kali…short for Kalashnikov.”

 

Shaw set the puppy down as it started to chew on her fingers, weighing the name in her mind before giving an opinion.

 

“Always was a sucker for a good automatic rifle,” Shaw conceded after a moment. “Kali it is.”

 

“Gotta go, Sameen. Aren’t you glad I don’t listen to what you say sometimes?”

 

There was a click as Root undoubtedly switched her earpiece off. The puppy barked at her and tried to jump up onto the sofa beside Shaw. It failed on the first attempt, bouncing clumsily off the side of the sofa back onto the floor. It recovered quickly though and tried again, this time just barely making it. Short tail wagging excitedly, Kali crawled onto Shaw’s lap and immediately started pawing at her hands. Shaw circled the hand the dog was favoring around her head so Kali had to chase it.

 

Yeah, Shaw would vehemently deny it until the day she died, but she was sort of glad that Root didn’t listen to what she said sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just had to write some domestic fluff for these two. These stories aren't related. The second chapter doesn't necessarily fit into the same world with the first, but you as the reader can take them how you please. Hope everyone enjoyed it.


	3. A Sucker for a Woman in Uniform

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. One shot. Shaw is in the Marines. She meets Root at a bar, shenanigans ensue...

Shaw sat at the bar, cradling a bourbon rocks in one hand and pulling at her collar with the other while the tall brunette who had insisted on sitting down beside her watched her through hooded eyes.

 

“I hate these uniforms,” Shaw growled.

 

She was only wearing the white collared shirts that usually went under the black red-ribbed jacket they’d all been required to wear to the ceremony thirty minutes before, no tie and no jacket, but still she was uncomfortable.  She should have changed before she went out drinking, but she’d left directly from base like everyone else and hadn’t taken the time to change. The other brunette chose that moment to lean further into Shaw’s bubble, smiling like a kid in a candy store and Shaw was a piece of some mouth-watering confection. Slowly, she reached out until her fingers touched Sameen’s forearm, brushing slowly up and down the meticulously pressed shirt sleeve and searing themselves into the skin beneath.

 

“It’s what’s on the inside that counts. Am I right, soldier?” the brunette cooed.

 

Shaw pulled her arm away like she’d been burned and looked around them. She’d never particularly cared for the opinions of others, but being career military, she’d learned to be careful. And even though, things were different now, Shaw was cautious by nature and this woman was anything but subtle. She’d attached herself to Shaw like a shadow she couldn’t shake. The other brunette leaned forward again, undeterred, as if she and Sameen were being drawn together by some unseen force and she knew Sameen’s hesitation wasn’t because she wasn’t feeling it too. Shaw was so mesmerized by gravitational pull and the burning fire in the other woman’s eyes that she barely managed to pull away before their lips brushed at the last moment causing the tall brunette to pout.

 

“Knock it off,” Sameen warned lowly. “You wanna be a smartass and get yourself kicked out of here, that’s fine, but you aren’t taking me with you.”

 

The other brunette, Root was her name now that Shaw thought about it (and what sort of stupid name was that anyway?), grinned and scooted closer still.

 

“Aww, where’s your sense of adventure, Sameen?” Root asked.

 

“You think this,” Shaw gestured between the two of them, “is adventure? This is little league. Throw yourself out of a window using your enemy as a human shield, then call me.”

 

Root bit her lip slowly and looked at Shaw, the hacker’s eyes leering suggestively at her as if she’d just said the sexiest thing in the world. Shaw chugged her bourbon down in one gulp, quickly motioning to the bartender for another and trying to ignore the warm prickle of excitement doing summersaults in her belly at Root’s hungry gaze.

 

Shaw wasn’t even sure how she’d managed to get herself into this situation. She’d only gone out in the first place because Carter had insisted, but an hour into their drinks, Carter had caught the eye of this dark, tall, forgettable cookie cutter stranger in Army dress greens and after the smiling sap had slipped his arm around Carter’s waist, they’d vanished into the crowd of rowdy soldiers like ghosts, leaving Shaw to nurse her bourbon rocks alone. Shaw hadn’t been bothered by it. In fact, she preferred whenever possible to drink alone and avoid other people all together, but then Root had materialized out of nowhere and had ignored Sameen’s repeated death glares and blatant threats and had proceeded to make herself comfortable in Shaw’s personal space.

 

If she were someone who admitted to things like that, Sameen would’ve admitted that she had been a little impressed. Grown men, battle tested soldiers ran from her when she was angry and yet this one woman, albeit a very attractive civilian, barely batted an eyelash at Sameen’s promises of bodily harm.

 

“Stop looking at me like that,” Shaw ordered.

 

“Like what?” Root feigned innocence.

 

“Like _that_ ,” Shaw reiterated, referring to Root’s hooded eyes and hungry gaze.

 

Root smirked and leaned further in Shaw’s bubble.

 

“I can’t help it,” she confessed, “You’re so easy on the eyes.”

 

Shaw shifted, but didn’t move away as Root leaned in for a second time. This time their lips did almost brush together before their eyes met and Shaw remembered where they were.

 

“Do you…” She started, inwardly cursing herself for how affected she was already. Usually, had it been some guy trying to put the moves on her like this, Sameen would have broken his arm. She was usually the one to make the first move. If they pursued her and didn’t respect her rejection, then Sameen wasn’t responsible for any further action that she took, but there was something about this woman. Here Root was challenging everything Shaw knew she was and everything she thought she wanted and Shaw was just letting her do it. What the hell was wrong with her? “Do you want to get out of here?”

 

Root’s smirk grew into an excited grin and her eyes blazed with a mischievous light.

 

“I thought you’d never ask,” Root purred, sliding off of her barstool and taking a step towards Shaw so that they were less than an inch away from touching now.

 

Shaw stepped down from her seat, not intimidated by the tall brunette’s proximity to her. She wasn’t as bothered as she’d thought she would be by how the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood up and her skin burned in the places where their bodies almost touched. She grabbed Root’s arm by the wrist and tugged her towards the door, Root all the while looking like a kid whose parents had just bought her the toy she’d wanted for her birthday.

 

No one from any walk of life would be able to misinterpret that these two women were about to get physically involved and yet Shaw was forced to stop her forward trajectory towards the exit when some fool in another Marine’s uniform tugged on the sleeve of Root’s jacket in the other direction.

 

“Hey there,” he greeted when Root looked up at the intrusion. “My buddies and I at that table over there were wondering if you’d want to join us. We’re a lot more interesting than we look.”

 

“I doubt that,” Root replied, reaching for Shaw’s hand when she let go of her wrist. “And if you couldn’t tell already, I’m not interested.”

 

Shaw watched the exchange, torn between the instinct to beat this asshole senseless or the apathetic urge to leave the trouble behind her and continue on with her life as it had been.  The stranger continued, stepping into Root’s way she tried to move around him.

 

“How do you know you’re not interested in something until you try it?” He went on, posturing himself like he was the greatest thing since real Scotch Whiskey.

 

Sameen suppressed a shiver as one of Root’s index fingers began to caress the inside of her wrist.

 

“I’m afraid you boys just aren’t my type,” Root said.

 

“But she is? You can’t be serious. A girl as pretty as you? A dyke? No way.” The man in uniform started to laugh like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard, “I refuse to believe it. What happened to you to turn you off of men?”

 

“Nothing, but guys like you make me grateful I never liked boys in the first place,” Root said, losing her patience. She turned to Sameen and used her grip on her hand to lead her forward.

 

Shaw was surprisingly compliant, letting Root maneuver them between tables, until another man stepped in front of them.

 

“Were you just being rude to my buddy over there you self-righteous bitch. I’m not sure I heard you right?”

 

Shaw tensed. This guy was someone she recognized. He’d been in her graduating class from basic. Josh Hardcomb come to the Marines with a long host of whispers following him about his violent treatment of former girlfriends. Officially, the armed forces only enlisted, “people of good moral character”, but anyone who only looked so far as the official line and stopped there would be kidding themselves. Josh was proof of that. She’d heard him talking to his friends in the mess hall day after day about all the “bitches” he’d fucked and how they were just basically receptacles for him to jerk off into. When he was done with them, he would treat them like the trash he thought they were. Whether or not, he would assault a pretty brunette in a bar because she refused to sleep with his friend, that remained to be seen, but Sameen was pretty sure that if he laid a hand on Root, she would kill him.

 

Always one to push people’s buttons, Root couldn’t help herself, “maybe you boys should get your hearing checked.”

 

“Stupid Dyke, I’ll show you—”

 

He reached out for Root, but his hand never touched her. Instead, his arm was twisted at an odd angle and his entire body was pushed into a wooden table.  He groaned when the arm behind his back was wrenched up roughly, by Shaw.

 

“You don’t touch her, do you understand?” Shaw seethed in his ear.

 

She pulled away from him, picking up an upturned metal bowl that had once held shelled peanuts and slammed it home into his temple. Shaw released the unconscious man and rose. She felt the air shimmer behind her with the promise of forward movement. Another man, no doubt one of the fallen asshole’s aforementioned buddies, was standing a few feet away from her and had wooden chair raised above his head, ready to knock her into next week, but he didn’t get the chance. A not so empty scotch bottle was smashed into the base of his skull and the would-be attacker crumbled to the floor like a sack of vegetables. Root stood behind where he had been standing, smirking proudly. 

 

Shaw’s dark eyes met Root’s slightly lighter ones and Shaw tried to suppress the increased pounding of her heart as the hacker’s smirk widened into an affectionate grin.

 

“No one hurts you except for me,” Root said by way of explanation.

 

Carter and her Army suitor pushed through the crowd that had gathered to watch the fight.

 

“Oh, hell no you didn’t,” Carter says taking in the mayhem and the now unconscious bodies on the floor.

 

“They were asking for it,” Shaw said.

 

Carter shook her head, but there was a rueful fondness in her eyes. She enjoyed Shaw’s dark side, appreciated it when it was put to good use, relished seeing it in action. But what she didn’t relish was seeing Shaw get arrested and disciplined for what came naturally to her.

 

“We need to get out of here before the MPs are called,” Carter suggested, moving toward the door.

 

Shaw reached forward, hooked her fingers into the waistband of Root’s black jeans, and yanked her forward in the direction of the door, not caring anymore that every eye in the place was firmly focused on all of them.

 

“Come on.”

 

Root didn’t need to be told twice, “Okay.”

 

OOOOOOOOO

 

“You get sirloin burgers from the Meat Hook like I asked for?” Carter asked, unlatching the gate to let Shaw and Root onto the boat.

 

“Yes, mother,” Sameen grumbled, setting down the two crates of supplies she’d lugged up the dock on the deck and reaching for the six packs of beer Root had been carrying.

 

“Don’t get smart with me, Shaw or I’ll toss your disrespectful ass overboard.”

 

Sameen snorted, “You’re welcome to try, Joss, but my money’s on me.” 

 

Dusk was settling over the river and the boat’s interior blue lights were already on, growing more prominent as the day receded into night.

 

It was Independence Day and as cliché as it was Carter was determined to celebrate in style with a select few of her fellow graduates, including one Sameen Shaw and Joss’s newly acquired man-friend—John—who was currently firing up the charcoal grill on the deck of a boat John had borrowed from his father. Graduating recruit training on a holiday weekend had its perks, one being that they could party twice as hard before they were all shipped god knows where in the next few days. Root was the only non-soldier in their little group and though she stood out like a sore thumb, she didn’t seem to be particularly bothered by how different she was.  Joss watched the tall woman lean against the railing and enjoy the view as Shaw bent over to unpack the crates.

 

Root hadn’t left Shaw’s side since they’d vacated the bar an hour or so ago and Shaw seemed unusually determined to keep her close by. It was strange. In the short time that Carter had known Shaw, she hadn’t known her to form attachments to people. The lovers she usually took were cast out unceremoniously the next morning or sometimes even minutes after the sex was over, still half naked and scrambling to get into their clothes. Shaw didn’t get attached…and yet here she was not ignoring and even paying attention to a woman she’d protected in a bar brawl from a bunch of piss drunk cadets. That kind of protection sort of screamed attachment to a very un-Shaw-like degree.

 

Sameen turned around at that moment, feeling Root’s gaze on her backside and scowled.     

 

“You gonna help me with this or are you just going to stare at my ass all night?”

 

Root smirked, “do I have a choice?”

 

“No,” Shaw said, standing up and dropping a bag of Styrofoam plates and plastic utensils into Root’s arms, watching unmoved as Root began to pout. “If I have to suffer, so do you.”

 

Carter smiled. Shaw-like or un-Shaw-like, at least the two were entertaining to watch together. Joss grabbed a bag of buns and the wax paper package of ground sirloin from one of the crates and sidled up beside John who was adding lighter fluid to the pile of unlit coals in the bed of the charcoal grill he’d dug out of storage.

 

“Look at you, Iron Chef. You do this often, grill burgers on a boat for a bunch of strangers?” Carter asked, setting the meat and the buns down on table beside the grill.

 

“Sometimes. For the right group of strangers,” John shrugged, smiling at her, his eyes lighting up as he did.

 

“Better get to work, huh? These burgers aren’t going to pack themselves,” Carter looked away from the bright hopefulness in his expression and started forming the ground sirloin into even patties.

 

Carter hadn’t had any plans for the holiday aside from going out to a bar, drinking until the world seemed more interesting, and maybe hooking up with some handsome someone. John had changed those plans.

 

The moment they left the bar, he’d asked her if she and her friends wanted to watch the City fireworks over the Bay from his rich father’s boat. She’d said yes—because who says no to that?—but now Joss felt a little guilty seeing all of the things he’d had to do to prepare for them. The boat had already been in the water, but he’d had to uncover it and warm up the engine then check the fuel and fluid levels before digging a grill out of the insanely large storage garage at his old man’s summer house, cleaning it up, and carting it down to the waterside. He’d done all of it with a smile on his face though or at least there was a smile on his face every time he looked at Carter, like he saw something special in her.  But Joss was a hard working girl from the City and she’d fallen into the eyes of too many naïve, big hearted young men who left an empty void that filled up with pain the minute they lost interest and walked away from her. She wasn’t looking for a knight in shining armor to make all of her problems disappear, especially not on the cusp of deployment, but there was something about John that made her put her inhibitions on the back burner. Maybe Shaw wasn’t the only one acting unlike herself.

 

The sun had receded below the skyline and the orange overcast glow was quickly disappearing.

While Carter packed burgers and John pretended not to be hurt by the way she so easily turned her back on him, Shaw and Root busied themselves with arranging the beer in the deck coolers and setting up enough canvas chairs for all of them to sit in. Shaw packed one cooler as full as she could and moved over to the other one, but when she opened it, there wasn’t any ice.

 

“Hey John,” Shaw called, “You got any more ice?”

 

John nodded, “Yeah, I packed some into the freezer below just in case we ran out. I can—”

 

“I’ll get it. You’ve got your hands full, Romeo.” Shaw said, standing and wiping the moisture from her hands off on the shorts she’d changed into after leaving the bar.

 

“It’s at the bottom of the stairs and straight back,” John told her, scowling at the nickname.

 

Shaw descended the stairwell. The boat was good sized, but small for a yacht. Still, John’s dad must have had some kind of money to afford a set up like this. Shaw found the freezer easily. As she knelt and retrieved the bag of ice from the silver box, she heard rapid footsteps on the stairs.

 

“I told you I—” Shaw began annoyed, but she stopped as soon as she saw that it wasn’t John trying to be chivalrous and help her.

 

It was Root.

 

The hacker didn’t miss a beat and continued down the stairs until she was right in front of Shaw. She bent down quickly, grabbed Shaw’s shoulders through her t-shirt, and pulled. Part of Shaw—the part that was always ready to fight—wanted to ask Root what the hell she thought she was doing, but part of her found that she didn’t care that Root was manhandling her all that much, especially after Root pushed her back roughly into the wall and covered Sameen’s mouth hungrily with her own.

 

The bag of ice fell to the floor and their bodies converged on one another like waves. Heat flared across Shaw’s entire body like she was burning alive at the same time her chest constricted. She wove one hand into the loose hair at the base of Root’s neck and tugged her closer. Root pulled on Shaw’s belt, hands digging in as she fumbled with the buckle. At the same moment, Shaw’s tongue brushed against her lips. Root opened her mouth to her and moaned as Sameen deepened the kiss. Shaw’s blood boiled at the sound and she flipped their positions, pushing her hips against Root’s, catching the other woman’s bottom lip between her teeth and dragging.  Root whimpered. She worked the belt loose impatiently and finally the clasp of Shaw’s shorts.

 

Sameen reached for Root’s own jeans. She popped the button open, but she didn’t get any farther than that as Root swatted Shaw’s hands away, returning her attention to Shaw’s open fly.

 

Shaw growled in both arousal and frustration. She wanted to touch the other woman. She wasn’t usually like that with her other lovers. After they’d served their purpose and gotten her off, Shaw would usually discard them, but Root was different in every way and Shaw wanted to make her come.

 

“Root, wait…I want to—”

 

But Shaw’s words went unheeded as Root plunged her hand beneath Shaw’s waistband and past her underwear. Sameen gasped and arched as lithe fingers glided through her wetness and a thumb rolled her clitoris. She bit her lip as two fingers filled her and a wet mouth began sucking on her earlobe. Her one hand remained in Root’s hair, fingernails scratching, pressing themselves into the hacker’s scalp and yanking her closer in the same movement while the other hand found its way back to Root’s jeans, deft fingers working determinedly on the tall brunette’s zipper again.

 

Root nipped at Shaw’s jawline in retaliation and added a third finger, slowing her pace and pounding into Shaw harder. Sameen groaned and she gave up on Root’s jeans as she gripped the other woman’s waist hard, pulling the hacker forward and pushing a thigh between her legs. Sameen jerked Root’s head up by her hair until their eyes met. Root slowed the rhythm of her fingers, feeling like she was drowning in Shaw and she didn’t want to ever come up for air. Shaw’s hand moved from the other woman’s waist to her ass and brought her crashing forward into Sameen’s hard thigh.

 

Root made a wanton sound in the back of her throat and repeated the movement, canting her hips forward as Shaw continued to stare up into her eyes. Root’s skilled fingers started up their rhythm again, this time faster. Both of Shaw’s hands moved to Root’s ass, pulling their bodies together harder, quickening to compete with the frantic pace Root was setting. Shaw closed her eyes as she felt her orgasm starting to build, dropping her head into the curve of Root’s neck and borrowing there. Root was getting close too if the hitches in her breathing and the consistent moans were anything to go by. They were both making sounds now, both breathing heavily, both straining closer to one another as if their very lives depended on being able to merge into one mixed-up body, one united mind, one limitless soul.  

 

Shaw pulled Root’s hips into her harder as Root’s fingers hit her g-spot and the whole world exploded into a white haze of pleasure. She was aware of her surroundings if only as an accessory to the sensations Root’s fingers were continuing to cause in her, like swimming in a pool and being aware that there was a world outside of the water, but not really focusing on it because it wasn’t important. Only the pool was important to the swimmer and in this moment, only Root was important to Shaw. The hacker breathed out Shaw’s name as she came, clinging to Sameen’s small, sturdy frame.  Despite her own legs feeling like jelly, Shaw held onto Root, holding her up and refusing to let her fall. They both drew in greedy breaths, the sound of each exhale and inhale bouncing off of the walls and back to their ears like the loudest sound in the world.

 

After a minute or so Root pulled back a bit, their bodies still touching, her face leaning directly over Shaw’s, staring down into her eyes. There was a softness, an affection in that look that Sameen had spent her entire life trying to run away from in other people, but from Root, she felt herself craving it like a drug.  There was so much Shaw wanted from this intoxicating woman in her arms and it scared her. She’d never depended on anyone else in her life for love or affection. She’d never needed them like other people had, but Sameen couldn’t say that anymore. Against all of her better instincts, she found herself wanting all of it from Root.

 

As if reading her mind, the tall brunette smiled and bent down, their lips meeting in a kiss that sent a jolt down Shaw’s spine.

 

“I’m leaving in two days,” Shaw said when they broke apart for air. “I can’t be here for you like a normal person. That isn’t my life. It isn’t who I am.”

 

The light in Root’s eyes diminished some, but she still clung determinedly to Shaw, not letting her go.

 

“Normal is overrated,” Root said, leaning into Shaw until she felt the other woman begin to squirm. “Just give me what you can and it’ll be all I need.”

 

Shaw didn’t say or do anything. There wasn’t anything she felt like she could say or do. She wasn’t the type to make promises that she couldn’t keep and she also wasn’t the sort of person to hold someone back if they decided that they deserved something better than what she could give them. She remained still as a rock, but when Root smiled down at her Shaw felt her stomach drop and her insides melt regardless. Root leaned forward again, pausing only a few centimeters or so from Shaw’s mouth, giving her a way out if she wanted one, but Shaw was a good soldier and she never retreated from something she wanted no matter what the risk.

 

After a moment of waiting, Root’s smile spread into a shit eating grin and when she closed the distance between them completely, Shaw didn’t pull away.

 

 

OOOOOO

 

After they’d pulled apart again finally and straightened their clothes, Root had climbed back up onto the deck and Sameen had retrieved the mostly melted bag of ice from the floor by the open freezer before hurrying to empty it into the cooler. It was fully dark now. They were still safely tied to the dock and John was flipping burgers on the grill. She ignored the disapproving looks Carter shot her and the way John tried not to look at her at all, but Sameen couldn’t get away from the beaming smirk that lit up Root’s face against the backdrop of the yacht’s blue interior lights that made the entire deck visible beneath the night sky.

 

 _That damn smirk,_ Shaw thought. The same annoying expression that made Sameen want to throw Root overboard and pull her to her and devour her in the same breath.

 

“Burgers up,” John called, stacking the pieces of cooked beef onto a plate.

 

Shaw was off the deck and up like a shot. She made herself two burgers one with double patties and the works: cheese, green peppers, jalapenos, red onions, tomato, sweet pickles, lettuce, ketchup, mustard, mayo, and some sort of mango chutney that Root had insisted on getting at the store and Shaw still wasn’t sure she was going to enjoy, but hey she would try anything once.

 

“Whoa there killer,” Carter teased, twisting the top off of a Samuel Adams. “I know you worked up an appetite getting that ice but save some food for the rest of us, yeah?”

 

Shaw glared daggers at the smirk on Carter’s face as she sipped her pale ale in the blue hue of the deck lights while John cleared his throat behind her. Root put her hands in her pockets patiently and was surprised when Carter handed her a beer.

 

“Thanks,” Root smiled, surprised.

 

Shaw paused in her preparation of the second burger and looked at Root.

 

“What do you want on your burger?”

 

Both Carter and Root’s faces went blank for a moment as Root thought about it and Carter wondered who this woman across from her was and what she could have possibly done with the _real_ Shaw.

 

“Surprise me, sweetie,” Root purred after a second.

 

Sameen rolled her eyes and started piling things on the burger she’d designated as Root’s.

 

“I hope you like everything because that is what you’re getting with an extra helping of the chutney you made me buy,” Shaw commanded, like that was the way it was going to be.

 

“Perfect,” Root replied, unfazed.

 

Shaw finished preparing their food and handed one of the Styrofoam plates to Root. As they passed one another, Carter leaned over to whisper into Shaw’s ear.

 

“You’re sharing food now? That’s new.”

 

“Shut up, Carter.”

 

Shaw gave Joss a glare for good measure and plopped down into a canvas chair not far from Root. John and Carter fixed themselves plates and joined them. They ate in relative silence or mostly silence. There weren’t many people who could stomach watching Sameen eat. She chewed her food with such gusto and savored every bite she took like it was the last meal she would ever have. It had taken Carter a few months to get used to it at first and even John was looking a little green around the gills, but Root, she seemed right at home, staring at Sameen while she picked at her own food like watching Shaw scarf down a pound and a half of beef was the cutest thing ever.  When they were all finished, John stood up and retrieved their empty plates.

 

A flare of white shot into the sky with a loud bang and fizzled out.

 

“It’s starting,” Carter announced in an excited voice that made her sound ten years younger.

 

Suddenly, the darkness was awash with color. Streaks of red, purple, green, blue, orange, gold, and white, zoomed into the sky and exploded in bright clusters. Shaw had never been a fan of holidays, but blowing up things? That she could get behind. Despite having seen fireworks a hundred or so times over the years up until this point, Sameen couldn’t help but be in awe of every single burst pyrotechnic compounds as if she were a little kid again sitting on her father’s shoulders in the park whenever her parents took them to see the fireworks in whatever city they were living in then. She looked beside her and notice an peaceful, almost reverent look on Root’s face. Orange, purple, red, and green light, shaded the usual pallor of the hacker’s skin, but in that moment Root was perhaps the most beautiful woman Sam had ever seen. It was like everything stopped. It was a moment Shaw knew would be burned into her memory for the rest of her life. Root looked at her then and smiled and Shaw knew then that deploying for Kandahar Province in two days wasn’t going to flush this woman from her system.

Root was buried beneath her skin for good and looking back on it years later, after everything that had happened between them, everything they’d shared, everything they’d felt after that first Indian summer after graduation, Shaw realized she wouldn’t have had it any other way.


	4. Heritage of the Wolf (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Person of interest Werewolf AU. Felt like I had to try it. Yeah, that pretty much says it all. Enjoy. :)

She was beautiful. That was the first thought that jumped into her mind when Root saw the sleek black wolf as it slowed from a run and trotted through the underbrush. She emerged into a clearing where a larger wolf with a mixed black and grey coat and white patches on his legs and chest leapt at her. Both wolves chased and nipped in a playful manner that suggested even before Root caught the shared scent that the two were pack mates or even, as their dominant behavior suggested, the Alpha pair of a pack.

 

Root should have been nervous, crouching in some bushes downwind of two strange werewolves and trespassing in their territory no less. Lone wolves like her weren’t often welcome on pack land, but Root had been alone for so long that she was used to the danger of being caught and treated it like a thrill that was too rich to resist. Besides, land everywhere belonged to someone, be they Fae, human, or animal. There was no point in thinking she deserved a place for herself to call home and having to fight for that home at every turn if it was just going to end up getting her killed. She hadn’t survived as long as she had by being stupid.

 

Accidents did happen, however, and proof of that was the hole slowly oozing blood in her shoulder. Root had taken a job stealing code from some big shot software programmer in the Bronx, but he’d been prepared for the risk and had hired Fae security guards, many of whom were former or current werewolf hunters. Guess, when you’re developing some super-secret black budget computer system, price is no object. The muscles in Root’s wounded shoulder chose that moment to twinge and she gritted her teeth to keep from making any sound that would draw the two wolves’ attention to an intruder.

 

Root took a deep breath. The silver from the bullet in her shoulder was racing through her bloodstream. If she had stopped at the nearest hospital to steal a few bags of saline and some sterile tools, Root probably could have removed the bullet herself and been out of New York City by now, but instead she had been forced to stay one step ahead of the hunters on her tail and as a result she’d driven her stolen car across the Hutchinson River Parkway and abandoned it after taking out a fence and reaching the tree line. She was certain she’d heard the hunters following her for about a mile or so, but then she’d managed to lose them somehow.

 

Root desperately needed to shift. The sooner she hit wolf form the quicker she would heal, but she couldn’t shift with the silver bullet still festering in her shoulder. Cold sweat was collecting in a sheen on her skin and Root shivered. The larger wolf nipped at the smaller female’s shoulder and the black wolf growled, fed up with their game. The large grey wolf took the hint and backed off just as a smaller wolf with a red coat entered the clearing. Then something surprising happened. The large grey and black wolf deferred to the little red one, rushing over to him, making quiet whining sounds and nudging the red wolf’s neck with his muzzle.

 

 _Well, that was unexpected_ , Root thought as she observed the exchange. Usually, the largest wolf in a pack was the most dominant, the Alpha who often ruled the pack with a mate, and Root had assumed as much of the large grey wolf and his smaller dark female counterpart, but the formidable male Root had assumed was the leader of this particular pack was deferring to a smaller male who seemed relatively docile while the beautiful black female loped about on her own as if she could care less about what happened to her pack mates.  

 

Root angled her back against the sapling behind her so she could lean more comfortably and keep the strain out of her muscles. Sometimes wolves from the city would retreat to Hunter’s Island or the bay at night to run and socialize. Tonight appeared to be this pack’s bonding time and Root didn’t know how long it would last before they would head back to the city and their human lives. She couldn’t risk moving too much or she would be found out, but if Root didn’t find some way to get away undetected soon, the overflow of silver that was slowly poisoning her body would kill her.

 

A twig snapped somewhere to her left and Root startled at the noise. She turned suddenly and saw an adolescent wolf, a lighter grey than any of the others in the pack who looked like he still hadn’t quite grown into his ears, staring at her and panting. He was only a few feet away and yet he seemed more curious than apprehensive.

 

Root raised her hand to her mouth and made a shushing sound and a shooing motion with her other hand, hoping against hope that the adolescent would go away and pretend like it had never seen her. He retreated a few steps, but still watched her eagerly. Paws could be heard pattering swiftly against the dirt and another adolescent appeared behind the first. This one was about the same size and a female with ginger colored fur save for her belly and feet which were white and sharp blue eyes.  The female adolescent eyed Root more wearily and before Root could do anything she howled, sounding a call the rest of her pack was sure to come racing to.

 

 _Damn it_ , Root thought.

 

The hacker didn’t waste any time. She was up on her feet and running within seconds. She slid down a steep slope, slipping on her ass as a chorus of eager barks and aggressive snarls sounded behind her. In pelt, Root could run and run for miles until her lungs burned, but on two legs she was more limited in how fast she could move and how far whereas the wolves chasing her had no such restrictions. Still, Root was a survivor and survivors didn’t quit when the odds were against them. She ran until her feet hit the sand of the beach and sunk into the sand, slowing her down. The growls form behind her got louder as Root struggled forward and flung herself into the incoming surf. The water engulfing Root dampened the surrounding sounds. There was an anguished howl and few frustrated yelps, but the last thing Root felt pulling on her consciousness was the pressure of powerful jaws as they clamped down on her elbow and propelled her backwards.

 

When she hit the sand coughing and sputtering, she saw the black wolf who had dragged her back to shore baring her teeth and snarling in her face and that was the last thing Root saw before everything went dark. 

****


	5. Heritage of the Wolf (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Werewolf AU part two...because I couldn't help myself. :)

“That’s not the point, Harold.” Shaw grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. “What I want to know is who the hell is she and what was she doing spying on us.”

 

They’d brought the intruder back to the safe house in Midtown and had tied her to a spare bed where Shaw had removed the bullet from her shoulder. Then John had enlisted the help of Lee and Gen in cooking a late night dinner, while Harold and Shaw argued among themselves about what should be done with the lone wolf they’d found encroaching on their running grounds.

 

“Have you considered, Miss Shaw that the reason she might have been out there is because she had no choice. She is injured after all and if that silver bullet you just pulled from her shoulder is any indication, she was probably being hunted and may not have meant to run into us in the first place,” Harold argued, gesturing to the still unconscious woman on the bed.

 

Shaw sniffed the air derisively, taking in the woman’s unique scent mixed with the salty tang of drying seawater. Something primal stirred in Shaw at the smell. She scrutinized the woman on the bed quietly, while Harold eyed Sameen warily. Whoever this woman was, she was beautiful, bony in the way that wolves often were when they were left to fend for themselves without the support of a pack and yet Shaw was sure if the woman had been in pelt when they had found her, she would have stood her ground and fought back. There was also something both mean and attractive about the stranger that drew Sameen to her, though she didn’t understand what it was. For a reason Shaw couldn’t name, she found herself wanting to lay down next to the woman to guard her instead of ripping her throat out.

 

“Miss Shaw, can I count on you not to harm our guest, while I go check on John and the children and make sure they aren’t preparing something monumentally unhealthy for our dinner.”

 

Sameen blinked and looked down at herself. At some point, she’d uncrossed her arms and a hand had begun absently stroking her abdomen through her tank top. Shaw shook herself out of it and dropped her arms to her sides, clenching her hands into fists.

 

“Don’t worry, Harold. I won’t kill her while you’re gone,” She reassured.

 

Harold stared at her for a moment as if expecting more and then disappeared into the next room. The minute he was gone, Shaw took a few steps closer toward the unconscious woman and knelt down until she was at her level, then Shaw closed her eyes and took in a deep breath through her nose. The woman’s scent washed over her as it had before only this time the proximity made it stronger: it was a wonderful smell laced with life and sweat and salt and a hint of cedar that made excitement race through Sameen’s blood. Subconsciously, Shaw bent lower until her face was inches from the woman’s exposed neck. 

 

Pheromones overwhelmed Shaw’s senses. A burning started in her abdomen and between her thighs as her wolf grew restless beneath the surface. She was sitting on the side of the bed now, bent double over the woman, face still close to her neck. Experimentally, Shaw licked the skin beneath her and her gut clenched and she whined low in her throat. This woman, whoever she was, would be going into estrus soon.

 

It was April and most female Weres in packs went into heat around the same time, usually in Winter, but for lone wolves their cycles were less predictable. Shaw pushed herself up a little, searching both sides of the woman’s neck for signs of a mate bite or a mark of ownership of any kind. Shaw let go a breath she hadn’t been aware she had been holding when she didn’t find one and lowered herself back down so her face was now contently cradled in the curve of the stranger’s neck.

 

 _What the hell is wrong with me?_ Sameen thought, making no attempt to move even though everything about this situation was making her cringe. Having a dual nature wasn’t a piece of cake. The human part of Sameen wanted to run so far away from this woman and these people she found herself with that she’d never be found again, but the wolf part of her was happy and settled and those instincts were telling her to stay exactly where she was.

 

All of her muscles tensed as she heard the safe house door slam shut and a dangerous growl rumbled deep in her chest and she leaned up on her elbows to look behind her. Lionel was standing beside the sofa, an excited bark emanating from Bear as Fusco unhooked his leash and let him loose into the room. The dog bounded over towards Shaw and licked at her cheek.

 

“What’s up with you?” Lionel asked, when not even Bear’s enthusiastic greeting livened Shaw up.

 

Sameen swallowed the urge to snap at Fusco and sat up, elbows resting on her knees as she tried to gain some semblance of control over herself again.

 

“Lee’s in the kitchen with Harold and John,” Shaw offered instead, staring down at her clasped hands.

 

“That ain’t what I asked,” Lionel countered, standing his ground. “You guys have a bad run tonight or something? And who’s the broad on the bed?”

 

Shaw took a deep breath to keep herself from bristling. Lionel Fusco was a cop, a good man, and an ally. He wasn’t a werewolf, but his son was just as his ex-wife had been and that made Lionel perhaps one of their pack’s biggest advocates and friends. Quite a few times, he’d kept the authorities off of their backs and in exchange, Harold had taken Lee under his wing and offered to teach him how to understand what it meant to be a wolf in a pack. Since then, Lionel had taken it upon himself to watch out for all of them whether they liked it or not.

 

“The run was fine, Lionel,” Shaw said, suppressing a groan.

 

She had to get out of here and fast. As much as her wolf wanted her to be, Sameen knew she couldn’t be present when the woman they’d found woke up. If she was, she would probably make a fool of herself. Shaw rose from the bed and threw on her leather jacket. The burning in the pit of her stomach and between her thighs needed to be answered and she knew where she could go to get it taken care of.

 

“I’m sure you’re famished, Miss Shaw. You’ll be happy to know John made Vension chops in a red wine mushroom sauce. Gen and Lee are assisting him, although grudgingly,” Harold began, meandering back into the room, but he stopped when he noticed Sameen wearing her jacket. “Where are you going?”

 

“None of your business, Finch.” Shaw snapped, and thought better of it at the disappointed look that overtook Harold’s face at her tone, “It’s just something I need to take care of. I’ll be back later.”

 

She threw the door of the safe house open and shut it resolutely behind her, retreating out into the city.

 

“She always like that?” Lionel asked, shaking his head.

 

Harold watched Shaw leave and took a deep breath in through his nose as discretely as he could, digesting and deciphering the myriad of scents in the room and the particular tale they were telling. It only took a few moments for his senses to piece everything together. He may not be an Alpha in the conventional sense, but he was responsible for the wellbeing of all of the members in his pack just the same. He looked at the bed where their guest remained asleep, Bear laying on the floor beside her and then back to Lionel, gaze narrowed in thought.

 

“No, she’s not,” Harold answered.

 

OOOOOOO

 

“Took you long enough,” Frankie Wells quipped, swirling the rest of her drink around in its glass as she eyed Sameen Shaw up and down. “I was beginning to wonder if I’d see you tonight. Full moon and all that.”

 

Sameen had found her just where she had been looking for her, at the bar where they’d met. The hole in the wall establishment was just one of a few Frankie liked to hang out in when she wasn’t out hunting. Weres because of their enhanced senses and attributes made good bounty hunters and were-cats like Frankie were no exception. Shaw took a deep breath, taking in the overwhelming mixture of booze, cigarette smoke, mountain lion, light perfume, lust, and gunpowder.

 

“I’m here now,” Sameen said.

 

She grabbed the front of Frankie’s jacket and pulled her out of her seat by the lapels, kissing her hard. Frankie responded eagerly. She was strong and fierce like most young weres. Frankie’s blood ran hot and she didn’t ask questions, which was what Shaw valued the most. Her skin prickled as Frankie nipped her bottom lip when she pulled away. Shaw opened her eyes and was surprised to find herself disappointed. Frankie was a beautiful woman, but she wasn’t the one Sameen found herself wishing she was kissing.  

 

“No strings right?” Frankie purred.

 

“No strings,” Shaw echoed.

 

Fed up with waiting, Sameen dove forward, kissing Frankie again. Everything else was a blur. Somehow, Shaw found herself pressed up against the wall in the alley outside the bar, canines biting ardently at the junction where Sameen’s neck met her shoulder as a sure hand thrust inside of her. Shaw groaned. Her skin was burning and hot. Frankie had to have been able to feel Shaw’s excitement rising, because she purred and began to increase her pace. Frankie’s fingers hit just the right spot, Sameen’s gut clenched, and she bit down on Frankie’s shoulder, letting herself fall headlong into blissful oblivion.

 

OOOOOOO

 

They’d eaten mostly in silence. Gen had been the first one to ask where Shaw was. Harold had repeated the vague excuse Sameen had given him and Gen had glared at him and pushed the mushrooms around on her plate with her fork, leaving a trail of red sauce behind them like an abstract painting. Lionel had decided to stay, though he’d neglected the plate that had been offered to him and had taken a Scotch instead. After a run, eating was important. Most were-wolves were ravenous after a shift from pelt to human form, unless they’d eaten during the hunt, and honestly to say that Harold was a little worried about Shaw’s wellbeing after leaving them was an understatement.

 

“Shaw’s always kept to herself, Harold, you’re never going to be able to change that about her,” John said decisively before biting into a venison chop.

 

“Thought all you ex-military types were like that?” Lionel asked, watching out of the corner of his eye as Lee enthusiastically tore into all three chops on his plate with vigor.

 

“Poor spies they’d make if they weren’t,” Gen criticized, pushing her mostly empty plate away from her.

 

“Gen,” Harold admonished with an air of authority. “It appears as though Lee has finished his dinner as well. Why don’t you two take your plates into the kitchen and begin washing up.”

 

Gen did what he said, but she didn’t look happy about it even as Lee joined her and they disappeared into the kitchen together. The room took on a sudden stuffiness. It was like the silence had sucked all of the air out of the room and was suffocating them. Sameen was an essential part of their dynamic and without her there, the loss though temporary was keenly felt. 

 

“What are we going to do with her when she wakes up?” John asked, nodding towards the bed against the wall where the stranger convalesced.

 

“Well, she’s one of us, of that much I am certain. I just don’t know where she’s come from or why she was being hunted. I didn’t spot any pack tattoo or clan markings, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” Harold commented, thinking out loud. “And I think she might be an Alpha. It’s difficult to tell without having spoken to her though I have my suspicions based on her scent.”

 

“You mean the big wolf in charge? I thought that was you?” Lionel said to John.

 

“A werewolf’s personality doesn’t always mesh with their hierarchy in the pack. Just because I’m more dominant than others doesn’t make me the leader automatically. Same goes for Shaw,” John explained.

 

“Huh, how about that,” Lionel mused, “but wait, if you ain’t top dog then who is?”

 

John smirked. Harold cleared his throat loudly as he sipped his tea. Lionel looked at him.

 

“Not Glasses?” Lionel asked, in disbelief. “No way. How do you defend your territory then, lecture your rivals to death?”

 

Harold’s face fell and John chuckled.

 

“I am not an Alpha in the conventional sense, Detective that I’ll grant you, but I think you’ll find I am more than capable of leading and protecting my wolves.” Harold defended.

 

“And inspiring loyalty,” John added, shooting Harold a genuine smile.

 

Loud coughing from the side of the room broke the quiet that followed. The woman on the bed sputtered and began to fight against her bonds. John and Harold immediately stood up, John ready to protect if necessary while Harold picked up a glass of water and brought it over to where the woman was laying. He tried to bring the glass to her lips, but she recoiled and snarled. John stepped closer in response, rumbling a warning. Bear was up and barking anxiously.

 

“Hush, both of you,” Harold commanded, and John quieted. “Relax, Miss. Everything is going to be alright, you’re safe now.”

 

Root stared at Harold and continued to strain against the ropes binding her hands and feet. Harold took a step closer with the glass and Root snarled again, this time louder, but Harold wasn’t afraid. Ignoring her warning, he sat down on the side of the bed and reached out with his free hand grasping the side of her neck in a comforting, but firm movement. As soon as skin touched skin, Root stopped struggling. Inside, her wolf was still furious at being constrained, but this Alpha was using his influence to calm her and it was working. Slowly, after a few tense minutes, she felt her wolf settle and Harold, sensing the change in her, let her go. Without prompting, Harold lifted the glass in his other hand to Root’s lips and she drank greedily, taking the water in as if it were life itself.

 

When the glass was empty, Harold handed it off to John, remaining where he was seated beside Root. She looked up at Harold, still not feeling threatened by him even though as a pack Alpha she should have been.

 

“What kind of Alpha are you?” Root asked, curious.

 

“What I am is immaterial. It’s what you are that interests me. Let’s start there.” Harold said and Root looked away from him, “You’re different too aren’t you? You don’t quite fit the mold of the lone wolf. Most are feral rogues so dangerous and visible to society that they are picked off by hunters not long after reaching full maturity, but you’ve managed to survive this long without a pack. How?”

 

Root swallowed hard, but didn’t answer. Her entire body ached from the silver slowly dissipating from her system and she wasn’t ready to trust this pack or their welcoming Alpha, but what choice did she have at this point.

 

“She’s awake finally.”

 

The voice was small and familiar. Harold turned around and found Lee and Gen standing at the entrance to the kitchen watching everything unfold. Harold rose from his sitting position and straightened his glasses.

 

“Detective, I don’t mean to be inhospitable, but would you be so kind as to take Genrika home with you and Lee for the evening?” Harold asked, “It is getting late and it is a weekend. You have been complaining that you needed a night out for some time, Genrika.”

 

“I meant something like going to see a superhero movie, not crashing in a low rent apartment in Queens,” Gen rolled her eyes.

 

“Hey!” Fusco objected.

 

“That’s enough,” John said, and Gen looked down at her shoes.

 

“If you do me this favor, I promise I will make it up to you, Detective.” Harold assured.

 

Lionel nodded at Lee and Gen, “Hop in the car, kids. You owe me, Glasses.”

 

Lee followed his dad out the door, but Gen hesitated.

 

“Go with him, Genrika, please,” Harold commanded, gently. When the preteen didn’t move, Harold growled, “Now!”

 

Gen’s eyes widened and she nodded, not so much racing out of the door as fleeing at Harold’s ominous tone. Root watched him as he turned around to face her again.

 

“I’m sorry. It occurs to me that I haven’t even introduced all of us. My name in Harold and the man standing across from us is John.”

 

Root started putting faces and smells together in her head to match up the human faces with the wolves she’d observed in the woods earlier. Harold must have been the slight red wolf and based on his behavior, John must have been the big grey and black one who’d deferred to Harold so easily, but where was the female? Where was the beautiful, fierce wolf with a black coat who’d pulled her from the water? Root was betting it hadn’t been Gen. Based on her unique scent and age, Root would have bet money that Gen was the adolescent with the ginger coat who’d ratted her out to the rest of the pack. That left the boy Lee as the grey adolescent who had found her out in the first place. Root took a deep, settling breath and caught wisps of a familiar scent lingering surprisingly close to her, but it was stale, a few hours old maybe?

 

“Where’s the black wolf? The female who chased me?”

 

Harold and John shared a look.

 

“What’s your interest in, Ms. Shaw?” Harold asked.

 

Even in her pitiful state, Root managed a grin and a mocking tone, “What’s your interest in her, Harold?”

 

“Ms. Shaw is our concern, Ms. Groves. Not yours.”

 

“How do you know my name?” Root asked, surprised.

 

“I’m good with computers,” Harold admitted, “as are you, if the disturbing reputation you’ve managed to build for yourself within the hacking community is anything to go by, Root.”

 

Root looked away from Harold, staring at the plain plaster ceiling high above her head.

 

“John, could you make up a plate of leftovers for our guest?” Root could hear Harold ask, voice so loud, so close it seemed like he encompassed the entire space around her. “You must be famished. I assume your wound made things particularly difficult for you tonight. Not being able to shift when the moon is full can drive a wolf mad with fury not to mention having liquid silver burning through your veins. It must have been unbearable.”

 

John handed the plate he’d just filled to Harold and an assortment of delicious smells drifted lazily beneath Root’s nose, making her mouth water and her stomach feel lean and empty as if she hadn’t eaten in days.

 

“I’m not hungry,” Root protested, doing her best to keep the tremor out of her voice that might give away her weakness.

 

“Given the state we found you in, Ms. Groves, I doubt the truth of that statement very much,” Finch commented, not unkindly. He picked up a venison chop by the bone and held it just above Root’s chin in offering. “Please, eat, I insist.”

 

Root felt like she was about to crawl out of her skin, the wolf clawing against her insides just below the surface, hungry and frantic. A sweat broke out over her skin as her body rebelled against the remaining silver in her blood stream and the need for nourishment to regain her strength. The promise of food wasn’t enough to make Root trust this man. One of the first rules of surviving as a lone wolf was never trust anyone. People who often looked benign were usually dangerous and deceitful and this Harold might appear kind, but that didn’t make it true. Root tried to turn her face away, but Harold grasped her chin and gently held her in place.

 

“Please, Ms. Groves. We’re not going to hurt you. If you are determined to die, then I can’t stop you, but I will not have you expiring under the delusion that you didn’t have a way out of this situation because you do.” Harold pleaded, setting the venison back on the plate and handing it back to John so he could focus all of his attention on Root. “You see, John, Ms. Shaw and myself spend our days helping people like us.  People who are in danger, either from themselves or those who hunt them down.  I believe the hunters who are after you are the same group of individuals we’ve encountered before and if they are, then they are responsible for a host of terrible things the general public will never hear about.”

 

 “So I’m supposed to believe that you’re what? Some benevolent savior who makes himself feel better about his mediocre existence by saving the lives of others?” Root mocked, digging her fingers into the mattress beneath her to regain some sort of control over herself. “Sorry, Harry, but I’d say you’re about thirty years too late for that one.

 

“We aren’t selling anything—look, Ms. Groves, you can believe what you wish, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are in danger and my pack is now too. You’ve exposed us to the watchful gaze of the enemy. They’ll come after us now no matter where you go from here.”

 

“That’s not my problem,” Root said, pushing herself up despite the screaming in her muscles so that she was level with Harold.

 

“I beg to differ, Ms. Groves,” Harold countered.

 

Up close, eye to eye, Harold seemed less imposing and more like the little man with a limp that he was. His wolf wasn’t bristling or posturing beneath the surface. Root met his gaze and leaned closer in challenge.

 

“You can beg all you want, Harry, but it won’t do you any good,” Root quipped, throwing the blanket off of her body and swinging her legs over the side of the cot.

 

“We’re offering to help you, Ms. Groves. Why not work together against the hunters? Then, when they’re gone, we can go our separate ways.”

 

“Or,” Root volunteered, rising and wincing at the strain on her muscles. “I could leave you here as a distraction for the hunters and give myself a head start on getting out of the city. That sounds like a better option.”

 

Root tried to leave, but John stepped into her way, growling.

 

“If you won’t help us, then there’s nothing stopping us from throwing you back to the hunters,” He snarled.

 

Root smiled sweetly up at him, too sweetly.

“Nothing except your better judgement and this.”

 

John straightened and convulsed as the taser Root had snuck close to his side was activated. Root pushed the sparking metal harder into John’s shirt and he fell heavily, immobile like a burlap sack full of vegetables. Harold rose from the side of the cot abruptly, eyes wide in horror. Bear started barking and growling, though he was too well trained to attack without being told to. Root smiled at Harold, batting her eyelashes in an overly exaggerated manner before taking off towards the front door of the safe house.

 

“Ms. Groves, where will you go?” Harold asked, his voice pursing her even as he bent down beside John on the floor. “With them hunting you there is nowhere you will be safe by yourself.”

 

“Please, Harry,” Root corrected, leaning briefly between the doorframe and the open door. “Call me Root.”

 

Then she was gone.


	6. Heritage of the Wolf (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raised the rating for this one. Just in case.

“You really should have eaten before we came here,” Frankie scolded lightly, her voice laced with amusement as she watched Shaw shovel forkful after forkful of raw beef tenderloin into her mouth. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bell boy run so fast after delivering room service. Of course, if I weren’t so accustomed to your eating habits, I would have run too after watching you power through two helpings of steak tartare like they were nothing.”

 

“I ran and came to see you,” Sameen said, while chewing. “I didn’t have time to stop anywhere.”

 

“You mean, you didn’t want to take the time. I’m just that irresistible.” Frankie corrected, wiggling her eyebrows.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes and continued chewing quickly. She washed down the ground beef with a mouthful of bourbon and reveled in the burn it caused. In truth, she was surprised she’d made it this long without food. A ravenous werewolf was a danger to themselves and the creatures around them. Even in human form, if a were hasn’t taken in enough nutrients after a change, the animal side of their nature will emerge as a survival instinct and will direct them to the closest, most convenient source of food. Shaw had always had a large appetite, which was rare in a she-wolf her size, but Sameen had never been typical her entire life. Out of her pack mates, Sameen had always eaten the most after a shift and she’d always taken pride in the fact that she could out eat even John.

 

“Don’t flatter yourself too much,” Shaw warned, pushing the empty plate away from her and taking another gulp of bourbon. “You’re good, but you’re not _that_ good. It’s lucky for you that I get hungry and horny after a run or you and I wouldn’t be doing this.”

 

“We aren’t doing anything right now, except talking,” Frankie countered, not being able to help herself from goading Shaw.

 

Shaw rolled her neck, reveling in the cracking of the vertebrae. Then she leaned back comfortably in her low back leather chair and took in the room. It was a suite, a penthouse where Frankie stayed when she was in the city. It was a large space empty save for the furniture and choice items of clothing they’d shed hurriedly in their trek to the bedroom. It didn’t belong to the blonde, but was on loan from a wealthy patron of sorts that Frankie had never named in all of their encounters. The furniture was sleek and modern in a way that Shaw found unnecessary, but there was a wall of windows and a good view of the city and the river below.  

 

“You’re different tonight somehow,” Frankie observed, taking a swig from a fifth of vodka they’d picked up on the way to the suite. “On edge, maybe?”

 

“I’ve never had any complaints before,” Sameen retorted.

 

“And I’m not complaining now,” Frankie returned, “I’m just saying. You seem not entirely yourself.”

 

“Whatever,” Shaw said, brushing her off.

 

Sameen knocked back the rest of her alcohol and stood. She picked up her t-shirt and jeans from the floor and dressed slowly. Weres, unlike most humans, were most comfortable when they went unclothed. Shaw often felt closer to the Earth when she was nude, like she belonged to the world as much as it belonged to her, but normal humans took offense to naked bodies roaming their streets in public so Sameen finished up getting dressed and reached for her leather jacket.

 

“You have someplace to be?” Frankie asked, watching Sameen shrug into her sleeves.

 

“Harold worries when I don’t return to the safe house by dawn. I don’t need him pissing in my ear about it for the rest of the month until the next full moon,” Sameen explained, striding towards the door. “It’s been fun.”

 

“Charming,” Frankie deadpanned, though she hadn’t expected anything different. “Come back sooner rather than later this time.”

 

Shaw didn’t break her momentum and exited the suite without looking behind her. In the elevator, she leaned back against the wall, exhaling slowly. Having sex with Frankie had settled Sameen enough to feel almost normal, but Frankie had been right, she wasn’t entirely herself. Her wolf was still restless like she needed to run again. The full moon wasn’t the only time a werewolf could shift, but it was the most enjoyable, high energy time to run.

 

Senses were heightened. The world looked and felt more vivid and the high that feeling of empowerment created could be intoxicating even after a werewolf shifted from pelt back into skin. By dawn, the high was usually gone and Sameen felt sated, but that wasn’t the case this morning. It was almost 4am and she still felt as if she hadn’t even run at all. Her body thrummed with unused energy and her sense of smell was going haywire, digesting olfactory scents and lingering odors and involuntarily searching for the spoor of a certain lone wolf on the air.

 

Shaw tried to make herself ignore it, to forget the last five or so hours, but her thoughts kept circling back to the cot in the safe house and the taste and smell of the mysterious stranger Finch had insisted they take in. By the time Sameen reached the entrance of the safe house, she was furious as well as distracted. She threw open the door to the living room and slammed it shut. A groan coming from further in the room was the first thing to alert her that something wasn’t right. When she turned the corner she saw, John was sitting on the cot and holding an ice pack to the back of his head with one hand as Harold knelt on the floor in front of him. Bear sat next to Harold with his head laying on John’s knee.

 

“What happened here?” Shaw asked, walking up to them.

 

“Our friend from the woods tased me,” John supplied, cringing.

 

He lowered the icepack so she could see the bump on the back of his head where he’d hit the floor. It was relatively small, but John’s eyes looked unfocused and when he tried to stand up, he wavered on his feet so that both Shaw and Harold had to reach out to steady him. _Concussion, minor_ , Sameen diagnosed in her head. The fury in Shaw grew and she snarled. Harold stood after helping John sit back down and began to pace restlessly. Bear whimpered.

 

“She did this?” Sameen asked in a whisper almost to herself.

 

“Yes,” Harold answered grimly, knowing who she was talking about without being told.

 

“Where was she headed?” Sameen asked, reaching into a drawer on a side table and pulling out her USP compact.

 

“I don’t know, Ms. Shaw. We didn’t stop to discuss the particulars,” Harold snapped, frustrated.

 

She loaded a full magazine into the gun and pulled a bullet up into the chamber. Then she double checked the safety before stuffing the weapon into the waistband of her black jeans. Harold watched her with concern as Sameen collected a couple of extra loaded magazines and tucked one into each boot.

 

“Ms. Shaw, what are you doing?” Harold questioned, not needing an answer. “You can’t seriously be considering pursuing her.”

 

“None of this would have happened if I’d stayed,” Shaw fumed, marching towards the door.

 

“We don’t know that, Ms. Shaw. Wait, please.”

 

Sameen didn’t turn around. She was a foot or so from the front door when Harold appeared in her way.

 

“Move, Harold,” Sameen growled.

 

“No, Ms. Shaw,”

 

Sameen tried to side step him, but Harold reached out and grasped her shoulder in a surprisingly firm authoritative grip. A sense of calm immediately permeated the room and Shaw felt the anger in her subside somewhat, but not even Harold’s influence could assuage the sliver of guilt wriggling deep down in her belly.

 

“You’re a member of this pack too, Sameen, and I won’t let any harm come to you. Ms. Groves isn’t worth the trouble at this point,” Harold said.

 

His words were meant to comfort her, but instead they brought her burning anger back to the surface. Sameen raised her head and met Harold’s gaze. In most packs, looking the most dominant wolves directly in the eye was punishable. Wolves in a pack would fight and play, asserting dominance and an Alpha would have to reassert that dominance often to insure that he or she continued to have the right to mate and to lead. Harold was different. He didn’t have a mate and he was careful about his battles. He picked and chose them based on their importance to him. It was something Sameen respected about Harold and it was one of the reasons she’d chosen to join his pack of strays in the first place, but she was still a dominant wolf herself, not a subordinate and in the end, there was nothing short of putting her down that he could do to stop her from doing what she wanted to do.

 

“It isn’t up to you, Harold,” Sameen said.

 

Then she shouldered past Harold and raced back down into the street.

 

OOOOOOO

 

Urban environments were ideal for evading predators, natural or otherwise, which was why Root stayed in them so much.

 

Werewolves often chose to live in places that were more rural or had access to wooded areas where they could run free. The problem with that approach was that running in a rural area made it easier to be tracked by hunters, especially the specialized Fae that had been bred or employed to kill them. In a densely populated city, the sights and smells were distracting. There was pollution, smoke, garbage, high rise buildings, and throngs of human bodies migrating endlessly from place to place. All Root had to do was circle a few blocks, create a few dead ends, then hail a cab or take the train and the car exhaust or the rank smell of human bodies overheated and packed as tight as sardines was enough to give her an nearly untraceable way out.

 

She’d taken precautions since leaving Harold and his pack. Expecting them to take restitution for their injured pack mate, Root had circled the block and taken two cabs just to be on the safe side. Then she’d walked the rest of the way as her final destination was one that needed to be reached on foot. It was the only place in the city that had space enough for an animal as large as a wolf to roam undisturbed for a few hours at least. Central park or more specifically a portion of it.

 

The Hallett Nature Sanctuary wasn’t very large as far as wide open spaces went, but it was densely wooded enough in some spaces to allow for what Root needed to do. She needed to let her wolf run before she lost control and went feral. Root entered the park, scaled the fence to the sanctuary, and circled the pond. Once she was sure she was out of the line of sight of anyone, Root began to remove her clothing. Her ratty tank top and jacket were folded on top of one another and stacked together in a pile along with her jeans. Socks, shoes, bra, and underwear were stored beneath the other items and stashed in a bush. The change was more painful than usual due to the partially healed gunshot wound still in Root’s shoulder. Someone had removed the bullet, but the healing process wouldn’t be complete until Root let her wolf come to the surface. Slowly, bones realigned, muscles stretched, organs repositioned themselves, and limbs lengthened and shortened accordingly. Finally, the transformation was complete.

 

Root’s wolf was small, sleek, and grey with keen brown eyes and a white muzzle and facial markings. She was undernourished somewhat for her age and gender, but otherwise strong and healthy. Root circled the small clearing she’d chosen warily at first, pricking her head up to sniff the air at various points and taking a few seconds to listen to the sounds of the city nearby, as if making sure she wasn’t being pursued before fully letting go of her human fears. Satisfied, she took off at a steady run, skirting through the underbrush. The hard packed Earth and loose dirt felt good beneath her paws and slipping in between her toes. The cool night air sifted through her fur and her tongue lulled out of the side of her mouth as she ran. The wound in her shoulder had closed during the change and the dull ache in Root’s muscles from the residual silver had been flushed away by the rapid multiplying and replacing of cells.

 

After running the length of the sanctuary and doubling back, Root trotted to a stop in the clearing, the body of a squirrel she’d managed to hunt down clutched tightly in her jaws. Root hadn’t eaten earlier and her wolf was famished. One squirrel wouldn’t fill her up, but it would blunt the edge off of her hunger so she would be able to function without hurting anyone. She set the squirrel down and nosed it tentatively before beginning to eat. A twig snapped in the underbrush, but Root’s wolf was too distracted by the promise of a meal to notice it. Before she knew what had hit her, the solid body of another wolf barreled right into her side, knocking her flat on her back in the grass with a yelp.

 

Root used the momentum to roll onto her belly and came up snarling. The wolf that had pushed her over was a good sized female with black fur and yellow eyes that glowed in the moonlight. She circled Root slowly as if looking for the best angle to strike from, growling with her teeth barred and her ears bent back. The black wolf was solid, small comparative to others Root had fought over the years, but there was something about her that Root found both more dangerous and more beautiful than any of her other opponents. Her scent was spicy and familiar and Root realized belatedly that this was the same female she’d seen earlier in the night running with Harold’s pack. The same one who’d hunted her down and brought her in like a piece of prey to be toyed with and eventually devoured. Root stopped snarling, but retained her rigid posture, hackles raised, as she mirrored the wolf that was stalking her so that her back was never vulnerable.

 

The black wolf realized what her opponent was doing, raised her head, gnashed her teeth, and charged forward. Root reared up on her hind legs to meet the angry body angling for her, paws clawing into furry shoulders, tearing into flesh beneath, but the black wolf continued forward, sharp teeth sinking into Root’s previously injured shoulder. Root yelped, but stayed on her hind legs, bracing herself even as the compact body attacking her tried to bowl her over onto her back utilizing the pain of sharp fangs in Root’s shoulder as an anchor. Snapping Root pushed forward, using her forelegs to dislodge her attacker, then leapt close and bit into the underside of the black wolf’s neck.

 

The black wolf didn’t yelp in pain or submit to Root as others had. Instead, she flailed wildly, her claws and limbs trying to find purchase against Root’s thick coat and sleek frame. Despite her dwindling odds, she continued to growl, snap, and resist Root’s every move. With the way things were going, this fight wouldn’t be over until one of them was dead or had been forced to capitulate and Root found, despite herself, that she didn’t want to kill this female.  Not wasting any time, Root made a decision. Keeping a firm grip on her opponent’s neck, she struggled forward, putting more pressure on the arteries she knew were there and using her body weight to her advantage. The black wolf’s animated snarling dwindled down to a furious rumble in her chest as she was wrangled onto her back against her will.

 

She could have let go of the black wolf’s throat, but Root knew the moment that she did, her feisty assailant would rear up and try to regain control so instead she laid down on top of the other wolf’s chest, keeping her weight fully focused there while relaxing her jaws just enough so that her challenger wouldn’t lose consciousness anytime soon. The black wolf continued to thrash futilely beneath Root’s weight for a while more, but finally she began to tire and her furious rumbling died down to silence and her body stilled. Root took the hint and released her grip. Then something unexpected happened as the black wolf began to shift back into human form.

 

Yellow eyes melted into a deep brown so dark it was almost black. The dark muzzle and wet nose merged into sharp angles and tan skin that Root couldn’t help but stare at. Curious, Root bent forward and nosed Shaw’s neck. She huffed and licked experimentally at the skin. Shaw allowed it for a moment, then rumbled dangerously beneath Root and grabbed her snout in one hand, pushing her away.

 

“Get off!” Shaw growls.

 

Root whimpers, but does as she’s told, sitting down by Shaw’s side in the grass and slowly shifting back into human form. Shaw sat up and wiped at the trail of moisture Root’s tongue had left on the side of her neck.

 

“Was that necessary?” Shaw asked, annoyed.

 

Root grinned and bit her lip, looking Shaw up and down and enjoying her human form more than her wolf one.

 

“No,” Root admitted after a glare from Shaw forced her attention back on her face, “but it was fun. You taste both salty and sweet in case you were wondering.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes and pulled her knees up to her chest more for something to do than out of any sort of bashfulness over her nudity.

 

“You hurt John,” Shaw said, eyeing Root like she was still the enemy.

 

Root shrugged, “He was in my way. I knew the big lug wouldn’t let me go if your odd little Alpha didn’t want me to leave, so I just made him take a little nap. He should be thanking me, actually. Poor man looks like he hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks if the dark circles under his eyes are any indication.”

 

Shaw lunged forward, pushing Root onto her back and closing a hand tightly around her throat. Root didn’t resist, which was strange, but allowed Shaw her full range of motion as if curious about what Shaw was going to do next. Shaw doesn’t really know herself. Usually, she wouldn’t hesitate to kill a werewolf who’d attacked a member of her pack, but with Root she finds the killing instinct lacking and she doesn’t know what it is that’s stopping her.

 

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you,” Sameen says instead.

 

Root stares up at her through hooded eyes that look more turned on than worried at the possibility that Shaw might choke the life out of her and when Sameen met that heated gaze, she shivered.

 

“Because I sort of like this kind of thing…just like you do,” Root admits, smiling. “You and I could have a lot of fun together, Shaw.”

 

Shaw was suddenly very aware of Root’s body beneath her own, naked and warm. Root seemed to realize it too, because her smile grew lascivious and she raised her body so that her midsection pressed up against the apex Shaw’s thighs where she was straddling her. Sameen’s thighs tightened reflexively at the encouragement, but she growled when Root slid a hand up, gripped her hip, and squeezed. Shaw growled louder, but her resistance was only met with an inviting gaze and Sameen knew why. She sniffed the air and mixed into Root’s unique scent was a distinctive, sudden change.

 

Breeding hormones, heady and strong.

 

The effect they had on Shaw was immediate. Her pulse increased, her clit stiffened, and she began to pant. Root’s grip on her hip tightened, trying to pull Sameen closer. Not feeling particularly patient, Root reached up, wove her fingers into Sameen’s dark hair and tugged. Shaw fell forward and their bodies collided, skin touching skin everywhere. Root kissed her hard, biting at her lower lip and devouring her mouth, wanting and hungry. Sameen felt her stomach clench and whimpered.

 

“You don’t even know me,” Shaw protests weakly when she can breathe again.

 

“I thought that was the point,” Root panted, claiming Shaw’s mouth again in a fierce kiss.

 

Werewolves, unlike humans, became receptive to breeding only for a few weeks once a year instead of every month. Root was grateful for the difference. Since being an adolescent she’d never quite had to deal with the whole menstrual cycle other human girls complained of frequently, but the flipside was that when her estrus would finally catch up with her in those few weeks a year when she couldn’t escape it, Root would be absolutely miserable. She’d almost wished to be human back then because she was certain anything would have been better than being unescapably horny all of the time, being hungry more often because her body required more nutrition to support the hypothetical young she was supposed to produce, and being more aggressive and contentious than usual. There were unexpected perks, though, as well. A breeding female always had heightened senses and heightened strength and perception, which gave them the edge to fend off suitors they might not want and to escape hunters.

 

She had known her heat had been on its way, had felt all of the subtle changes and symptoms in her body to warn her that the inevitable had been coming, but Root had been so preoccupied with her most recent heist that she hadn’t prepared properly. Usually, she would scout out a portion of the city, find a suitable specimen, usually another female who was unattached and not looking for a mate, and spend a certain number of days fucking like rabbits. If the short term companion she had chosen was a member of a pack that usually complicated things and Root would have to high tail it soon or risk being hunted down by one of the Alpha pair for trespassing.

 

In earlier years, infrequent hot and heavy encounters with random humans had scratched that itch with less apparent consequences, but this year was different somehow. Root was getting older and against her wishes, her wolf was looking for a mate. Somehow, it had taken an interest in Harold’s spirited little black wolf, but Root was very adamant that no matter what her wolf wanted, she did not want a mate or a pack or anything that would tie her down to one place and one group of people for too long. That was how a werewolf became vulnerable and that was how they got themselves killed.

 

At the moment though, Root found herself unable to help it. She arched wantonly up into Shaw, biting and splitting her lip. The taste of copper seemed to invigorate Shaw as she surrendered Root’s mouth and nipped at her neck, searing and possessive. Root groaned. Her skin was slicked with sweat and her insides felt like they were boiling over. She couldn’t wait much longer. Root rubbed her breasts against Shaw’s and wrapped her legs around Shaw’s hips. Sameen whined, her hips flexing involuntarily. Root grabbed Sameen’s ass, claws extending, drawing blood as they clung and encouraged. Shaw moaned at the exquisite pain. She raised herself up, notching her clit into Root’s opening and thrust. Root clung tighter, riding Shaw as her hips pumped, hard and fast.

 

“Bite me,” Root panted, looking up into Shaw’s eyes, ringed in gold and wolf-bright. “Hurry.”

 

Shaw didn’t need to be told twice. She sunk her teeth into the juncture where Root’s neck met her shoulder and Root orgasmed almost immediately with a howl. The contractions of Root’s inner muscles around her clit were too much and Shaw came only seconds later, hips thrusting furiously a couple more times before she collapsed entirely and they both went still.

 

It took a few moments to catch their breaths. Once sated, Root would usually have pushed her current lover off of her, needing some space, but this time she found her arms weaving around Shaw, one hand threading into her hair and caressing the back of her neck. Sameen could hear both of their heartbeats thumping as one between their attached bodies and something about that felt…natural. Still, Harold and John were sure to come looking for her soon and if she could have tracked Root, Shaw knew that John could as well. Sameen moved to disentangle her body from Root, but the other woman growled and gripped onto her back and shoulders selfishly.

 

“Let go of me,” Shaw grunted, pushing at Root. “Harold and John are probably out looking for me right now.”

 

“But we were having so much fun together,” Root pouted, holding on tighter.

 

“Let. Go. Of. Me. Now.” Shaw punctuated dangerously.

 

Root met Shaw’s threatening gaze for a couple of minutes more then relented with a sigh, letting Sameen go so she could stand up. Root rolled over and propped her chin up on her arm, watching appreciatively as Sameen brushed leaves and dirt from her knees and calves.

 

“I could probably take your Alpha in a fight,” Root admitted, testing the limits of Shaw’s loyalty.

 

Shaw paused what she was doing, growling. “You won’t touch him, do you hear me? Him or John. They’re off limits to you. You got that?”

 

“You could leave them and come with me then,” Root offered.

 

“In your dreams,” Shaw scoffed. “Besides, don’t you think you’ve made enough mistakes already tonight?”

 

Root only shrugged her shoulders dismissively, but on the inside her wolf was restless. Now that she’d had this female, she wanted to claim her, keep her as her mate. However, the steady rebellious rumbling of Shaw’s wolf was a clear rejection that not even the most obtuse yearling could miss and Root tried to bury the sting of disappointment that rose up in her chest at the realization. Root sniffed the air then and perked up. Shaw noticed her reaction out of the corner of her eye and stilled by the tree where she had stashed her clothes and gun before ambushing Root.

 

“What is it?” She asked.

 

Root didn’t answer right away. Instead, she rushed over to the bush where she’d hidden her own clothes, throwing her shirt over her head and pulling her underwear on quickly.

 

“We’re about to have company,” Root warned, pulling on her jeans.

 

Sameen pulled on her pants and clicked the safety off of her USP compact. She raised the gun and sniffed the air, but lowered it as soon as she recognized the familiar co-mingling of scents. The sound of twigs being shifted and claws digging into earth as they ran got louder and Root pulled on her shoes, ready to run, but she halted when she noticed Sameen wasn’t moving. Against all of her survival instincts, Root stayed where she was.

 

“What are you doing? Run!” Sameen ordered, urgently.

 

“Come with me, Shaw,” Root pleaded desperately.

 

Sameen opened her mouth to answer, but before she could form the words a large grey wolf broke into the clearing, snarling and putting himself protectively between Shaw and Root. It was John. He’d found them just as Shaw had predicted he would and he wasn’t alone. A dark figure loped out of the bushes behind Root, the body of a lithe brown wolf, teeth bared, eyes glowing gold.  Root didn’t back down. She moved away from John and Sameen and circled Harold instead. His wolf was small for an Alpha male, but healthy and probably quick on his feet if he’d survived this long.

 

Root usually liked to avoid conflict with other wolves. It made survival easier, especially since the number one threat to a werewolf didn’t necessarily come from hunters, but from other werewolves. However, with her breeding frenzy simmering below the surface, Root wasn’t very tolerant or very careful. She knew she would be able to subdue Harold. Hell, with the added strength of her hormones, she even had a fair chance of subduing John. The question though wasn’t could she, but _should_ she and would Sameen ever be able to forgive her if she did?

 

Feeling her own hackles rise, Root let her canines extend and her eyes began to glow brown as she Wolfed out. Harold took a few steps back, but stood his ground cantering back and forth as if searching for the best angle to defend himself from. John barked and snarled advancing slowly closer from the side. There wasn’t a lot of time and either way, someone would have to die. It was how these altercations worked. Not even Harold, who believed in the sanctity of life be it human or otherwise, would be able to avoid it.

 

Shaw took the only initiative she could see and ran forward. She reached Root before she managed to change, raised her gun and slammed the hilt into the back of Root’s head. She yelped and fell forward. Sameen cradled her body as she lost consciousness, not allowing Root to hit the ground. John vaulted forward, circling the pair and snarling. Harold stopped baring his teeth and trotted closer, ears erect and attentive.

 

Sameen let out a deep breath she hadn’t even been aware she had been holding and held Root’s body tighter. John changed back into skin first, but when he tried to wrestle Root from Shaw's hold, she clung possessively to Root's unconscious form and growled a warning at him.

 

“Shaw, it’s okay,” John comforted her.

 

Sameen wanted to believe him, but there was this uncertainty bubbling up in her chest that made her think that maybe this one time, he was wrong.  


	7. Heritage of the Wolf (Part 4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I might have gotten a little overzealous with the sex scene at the end of the chapter, guys. It sort of ran away with me and went farther than I intended. And me being me, I was worried about upsetting some readers, so just be aware if that is something that might offend you, you might want to skip it. This will be the last chapter of Heritage of the Wolf, I think. It was written as an ending and I hope it accomplishes that. Read and enjoy and hopefully leave a comment on your way out.

“From here we can keep an eye on Ms. Groves so she won’t be able to hurt anyone else,” Harold said.

 

Sameen and Harold were both standing in the hallway outside of the library, their base of operations in the city, watching as John set an unconscious Root down on the sofa bed by the window.

 

“You did the right thing, Ms. Shaw.” Harold reassured, moving forward to lock the door to the cage surrounding one of the main book rooms after John had vacated it.

 

 _Then why does it feel so wrong?_ Shaw thought to herself, watching Root as she slept.

 

Sameen didn’t really do emotions. Anger was easy, but that normal attachment most people felt to others, she’d never felt that, didn’t even have a reference for what it would feel like. But what she was feeling right now…it was painful and self-depreciating, like she had just betrayed a part of herself. Sameen had felt a connection to Root that she’d spent this entire time trying to write off as insignificant. When she’d seen Root for the first time laying on that cot, she’d told herself that it was just because she was horny and then after having sex in the woods she’d told herself it was just because Root was in heat and had wanted her, but holding Root in her arms after she’d knocked her unconscious, Sameen couldn’t find an excuse for the protective urges that had overtaken her.

 

It was like being in the ocean and getting caught in the undertow. Shaw had this instinct that told her to kick to the surface of the water for air, but she couldn’t fight the current of affection that was holding her down. Both parts of Shaw, human and wolf, were in agreement. They both wanted to be in that room with Root, holding her, keeping her safe. Sameen sat there on the bench outside of the cage for so long that John and Harold had gone into the other room. Minutes bleed into hours until finally she wasn’t able to judge what time it was anymore. It wasn’t until she opened her eyes that Shaw was even aware she’d fallen asleep propped up on the bench against the wall across from the cage where Root remained unconscious.

 

“That can’t be comfortable, Ms. Shaw.” Harold said, from the hallway behind her. “You can retire. I’ll watch over our guest.”

 

Shaw didn’t move. Harold sniffed the air, eyes focusing intently on Shaw and Sameen sighed.

 

“What is it, Harold?”

 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Ms. Shaw,” Harold said, feigning ignorance.

 

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” Shaw mimicked him, impatiently. “Just ask.  I know you want to.”

 

“Very well.” Harold conceded, removing his glasses and beginning to clean them with a cloth. “When you were in the woods with Ms. Groves, did the two of you…?”

 

“Did we what, Harold? Fuck?” Sameen asked, grinning when Harold blushed at her choice of words. “What do you think?”

 

“I think judging by the fact that Ms. Groves’ scent is all over you, you gave into her biological imperative.”

 

Sameen snorted. Leave it to Harold to make sex with a dangerous stranger in the dirt of Central Park sound polite and scientific.

 

“Then why ask if you could smell her on me a mile away?”

 

“One can never be sure without verbal confirmation. You could have merely fought in the woods and her scent would have been on you as well,” Harold explained, sitting down next to Shaw on the bench. “I can give her suppressors to regulate her hormone levels. It should make things easier on her and all of us while she stays here. It’s the only option.”

 

“It’s not the only option,” Sameen said, smirking.

 

“It’s the only one I’m willing to contemplate,” Harold said derisively.

 

Sameen snorted, looking Harold up and down. “Feeling a little hot under the collar are we, Harold?”

 

Finch looked like his usual composed self, but the beads of sweat on his forehead spoke of a hidden world of difference. The pheromones of any werewolf in heat projected themselves to other weres both male and female like a beacon or a large neon light sign saying, ‘Dock Your Boat Here.’ Any werewolf would be uncomfortably anxious and aroused in Root’s presence for the next few weeks, even a reluctant Alpha like Harold who had done his best over the years to ignore his biological need to mate or a Beta soldier like John who was more in love with duty and the need to protect those closest to him than any living breathing thing would be tempted by the flood of rich hormones rolling off of Root. 

 

“Lionel called from the station, Harold,” John announced walking into the room.

 

“Someone need saving?” Sameen asked, perking up at the chance for a fight.

 

“Not exactly,” John admitted.

 

Shaw had been awake now for almost twenty-four hours. Under normal circumstances, she would have been ready to pass out, but after everything that had happened with Root in the park, she was too wired to go to sleep.

 

“I thought Detective Fusco had the night off?” Harold asked.

 

John shook his head, “He did, but Carter called him in. Found a body in a warehouse on the waterfront. You game, Shaw?”

 

“Hell yes,” Shaw said, standing and stretching. “Anything if it will get me out of here.”

 

Sameen rose and walked into the main room after John with Harold following in tow.

 

“Is it just your run of the mill homicide?” Shaw asked, checking her USP compact before tucking it into her coat pocket and throwing it on. “Or something more exciting?”

 

“I would hardly describe homicide in those terms, Ms. Shaw.” Harold chastised, limping over to his computer chair and sitting down. “Was the detective able to determine the ID of the victim?”

 

“No. She wasn’t carrying a driver’s license or any personal effects,” John answered, readying his own weapons.

 

Shaw loaded a second, smaller gun into the mouth of her boot and slipped excess ammunition into her other jacket pocket. It had been a week since they’d had a number and though John and Shaw seemed eager to jump into some sort of violence, Harold as always was wary and cautious.

 

“What alerted detectives Carter and Fusco that a case like this warrants our own attention as well as the NYPD’s?” Harold asked.

 

“Mud tracks on the floor.” John elaborated. “The security guard who discovered the scene thought they were from a large dog, but they were mixed in with human footprints. When Lionel saw them, he knew it was most likely from a werewolf.”

 

“Hunters?” Shaw frowned.

 

“Unlikely. Most hunters prefer to kill our kind in wolf form. It seems less savage and they feel vindicated somehow for murdering a beast instead of a man,” Harold supplied. “Hunters also usually avoid killing us in cities. It tends to draw the wrong sort of attention. I suppose anything is possible, however.”

 

Shaw grimaced. She was well acquainted with how hunters preyed on weres like them, destroying entire packs in the process and displaying the pelts of the wolves they’d killed on the walls of hunting lodges like they were nothing more than a bunch of filthy animals.

 

“Ready?” John asked.

 

But Shaw was already at the door, throwing it open. “Are we going or what?”

 

John smirked and followed after Sameen. Running missions with Shaw was always fun.

 

“Please, be safe,” Harold shouted after them.

 

OOOOO

 

When Root woke up, she was alone. The room she was in was dark and she’d never been in it before. She sniffed the air and it smelled musty, but other scents lingered on the air as well: Harold’s bookish, almost-entirely human aroma, a dangerous musk that Root recognized as John’s, and a spicy essence that could only have belonged to Sameen. Root felt her stomach flip at the thought of her dark haired lover from the woods.

 

Shaw.

 

 _Where is she? Where am I and how did I get here?_ Root wondered. She sat up quickly, taking in her surroundings. Shelves of books, books, and—surprisingly—more books took up the majority of space in the room. There was also a sofa bed, which Root found herself currently laying on, and a table stacked with more columns of books. She got up, feeling heaviness in her limbs and a dull throb in the back of her head.

 

“How are we feeling, Ms. Groves?” Harold asked, choosing that moment to limp into the room.

 

“Why just peachy, Harry, how are you?” Root asked, fluttering her eyelashes, almost seeming coy, but Harold knew better than to underestimate her like that. “Nice place you have here.”

 

“Thank you. It was redesigned specifically with you in mind,” Harold deadpanned.

 

“Aww, you shouldn’t have gone to all of that trouble. I’m a simple girl, Harry, with simple needs,” Root egged him on, moving until she was leaning against the cage door, eyes twinkling.

 

“I doubt that very much, Ms. Groves.”

 

As Harold hobbled closer, he tried to conceal the pill bottle in his hand against his side, but Root noticed anyway.

 

“Are you going to force those pills down my throat, Harold?” Root asked sweetly.

 

“I had been hoping you would be reasonable and take them willingly. It can’t be comfortable sitting in that cage feeling like you’re burning from the inside out.”

 

“You don’t need to pretend that you care what happens to me, Harry. I know you don’t. My very presence here makes you squirm—excluding my hormones—you had some serious reservations about bringing me back here alive. I can see it in your eyes. And I don’t think you’ll willingly let me out, you’re too worried for your loyal guard dog and Shaw.”

 

“I’ve already told you, Ms. Groves. Ms. Shaw is not your concern,” Harold said, his posture rigid, more than defensive.

 

“She isn’t yours either, not really,” Root argued. “She was a lone wolf before she came to you, wasn’t she? She might have had a pack for a while, but that was all over by the time she wandered into your pack of strays and that somehow makes her yours?”

 

“If you really knew, Ms. Shaw at all, you’d know that she doesn’t wander anywhere, Ms. Groves. She came to us when she was being targeted and we kept her safe. Now, she’s a member of this pack and it’s my responsibility to keep her safe.”

 

“Like you kept your fiancée safe?” Root provoked.

 

Root knew she shouldn’t have said the words the moment they left her mouth and Harold’s reaction didn’t make it better. Harold looked at her, expression revealing nothing, eyes cold and glowing faintly gold just around the edges.

 

“How did you find out about that?” Harold asked.

 

Root had been a professional hacker for at least fifteen years of her life and in that time she’d studied her competition very closely all over the country. Harold had been hard to find, but she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t had fun trying. After she found him though, she’d devoured every piece of information she was able to find on him. What she’d found was the story of a tortured computer genius who was haunted by the loss of the woman he’d loved and used his technical expertise to help rescue the lives of people who were about to be the victims of violent crimes. She hadn’t figured out entirely how he did that yet, but she was well on her way to doing it when she’d been caught.  

 

“The best hackers have to know how to outmaneuver their competitors as easily as they would the authorities,” Root conceded, feeling somewhat sheepish for the first time in front of this man.

 

“Tell you what, Ms. Groves. Stay away from my packmates, behave yourself and one day I might let you go. Continue, however, to abuse my good faith and I will not be so forgiving. And if you endanger the lives of my packmates, either one of them, I promise you, you will be sorry.”

 

Root met the shorter man’s eyes and was immediately reminded of the first lesson she learned after she’d become a werewolf. Just because your opponent was smaller or looked like less of a threat didn’t meant that they were and Root was sure that if Harold wanted, he could end her.

 

OOOOOOOO

 

Shaw all but bounded through the door of the library and slammed the mechanical door behind her heedless of John who would be following in her wake any minute. She hated failed hunts. After finding the body of what had indeed been a murdered young werewolf, John and Shaw had followed the scent as far as the could along the river for a couple of hours, but the Fae hunter they were tracking had known what they were doing and had crossed after only a few miles. Sameen and John lost the scent to the water and a whole lot of restless anger and impatience later, they were back in Harold’s bookish smelling lair.

 

“Thanks for that,” John grumbled at Shaw’s back, opening the door and slamming it behind him as well.

 

“Anytime,” Sameen returned.

 

John was just as frustrated by their inability to catch their quarry as Shaw was. Human beings were complicated. They needed things and once they got them, they didn’t want them anymore and started searching for something new. Wolves were simple. They needed to kill to eat and eat to survive. Fighting and fucking were fueled by instinct and took up the majority of the rest of their time and when a wolf got what they wanted, they didn’t go back out looking for more than their fill. But leaving these instincts unfulfilled in a wolf or werewolf was just as dangerous as uninhibited greed could be in a human.

 

Sameen and John were out of balance. They’d hunted, but instead of feeling fulfilled after a successful chase because they’d caught what they were pursuing, they’d ended up with nothing and that made them unsettled and potentially dangerous. Both of them needed to find something to take the edge off of their restlessness before they either, went out into the world and did something they would regret or picked a fight with one another.

 

Harold hobbled into the room, Bear at his heels.

 

“What’s going on?” He asked, feeling that something was off with his packmates.

 

“We lost their trail, Harold.” John said, sounding pained.

 

“Fucking Fae and their fucking tricks,” Sameen growled, pacing back and forth .

 

She stopped, took a deep breath through her nose and almost keeled over. Sex pheromones were thick in the air, more potent than they had been a few hours before.

 

“Harold,” Shaw said more sharply than she’d meant to. “I thought you were going to put her on suppressors?”

  

“Ms. Groves has been less cooperative than I had hoped. I fully believe though, that given 24 or so hours with no alleviation from her heat, will break her resolve.”

 

“I’m going for a run,” John announced, removing his suit coat and gun and moving back towards the door.

 

“I’m not sure that’s at all prudent given our current circumstances, Mr. Reese,” Harold cautioned, taking a step forward.

 

“It’s either that or Shaw and I get into a fight right here. Is that what you want, Harold?” John snapped, more agitated than he wanted to be with his friend and his alpha.

 

“That wouldn’t end well for you,” Sameen commented, wiping at her forehead and noticing how her fingertips came back damp with sweat.

 

“Please, calm yourselves, both of you,” Harold interjected. “We are more than our base instincts.”

 

Shaw inhaled deeply through her nose again and felt her body quake unsteadily in response as Root’s heightened scent washed over her and neurochemicals flooded her brain causing a myriad of familiar physical responses: a noticeable rise in heart rate, increased saliva production, and a tightening of muscles in the abdomen as her clitoris lengthened. Shaw growled. Usually, the way her body reacted didn’t bother her. She was comfortable in her own skin, but from the moment Root had stumbled into her life, her body had been making more and more decisions that she didn’t entirely agree with, including reacting to Root’s needs as if they were her own.

 

Shaw placed a hand on her abdomen, trying to ignore the burning pull that seemed hell bent on dragging her into the next room where Root was caged up. Harold, observant as always, noticed the change in her right away.

 

“Is everything alright, Ms. Shaw? You seem a little…disoriented.”

 

“I’m fine, Harold.” Shaw ground out, slumping her forehead against the wall and trying to ignore the urge to bolt from the room.

 

“The suppressors Ms. Groves refused to take are on my desk.” Harold supplied, eyeing Sameen up and down. “They might provide some much needed relief if you’d be willing to give them a try.”

 

“I need to get out of here,” John said, voice sounding gruff. Sweat was dripping from his temples, evidence enough that Root’s presence was throwing them all into turmoil. “Maybe I’ll go see Zoe instead.”

 

He forcefully threw the door open and took the stairs two at a time.

 

“Mr. Reese, please.” Harold called after him.

 

The older man limped over to the wall and pulled his coat from a hook there.

 

“I’m going after Mr. Reese to make sure he makes it safely to Ms. Morgan’s. In the state he’s in, John’s liable to draw more attention than we need. Please keep a close eye on Ms. Groves. If she gives you any trouble, contact me immediately.”

 

“I can take care of myself, Finch, and anything that psycho can dish out.”

 

Harold looked at Sameen briefly. He didn’t look like he entirely believed her, but he had more pressing things he was worried about, like whether John would cross the path of a hunter or not on his way across the city and what might happen if he did.

 

 “Bear, _blijf_ ,” Harold commanded.

 

The dog stayed where he was, not following Harold out the door as the older man retreated down the stairs as quickly as he dared.

 

Sameen exhaled a deep breath as soon as he was gone and made a b-line into the next room. The cage was just as she’d left it hours beforehand, only this time Root wasn’t knocked out on the sofa bed. Instead, the tall brunette was standing in the middle of the room, arms wrapped protectively around her middle as another muscle spasm tore through her body. When she looked up at the rapidly approaching footsteps, there was pain in her brown eyes, pain that Shaw wanted to completely obliterate and replace with something she couldn’t name.

 

Shaw all but ripped the keychain from its hook on the wall and marched over towards the cage door.

 

It took her a few frustrating seconds to be able to fit the key into the lock correctly and once it clicked open, Shaw didn’t even bother closing the grate behind her again. She advanced on Root hungrily, pulling the other woman closer by the lapels on her jacket until their bodies slammed into one another and their mouths collided in a kiss that knocked the wind out of both of them. Root sucked Shaw’s bottom lip into her mouth and bit down roughly. There was a burst of copper and Sameen moaned, digging her fingers into Root’s jean clad hips hard enough to leave marks beneath the fabric and pushing, pulling, manipulating, until Root was naked from the waist up and her exposed back slammed into a bookcase stopping their backward momentum and bringing their bodies closer to one another.

 

The kiss ended and Shaw pulled away to take a much needed breath. Root took advantage of the moment and moved forward, nipping at Shaw’s neck with sharp teeth all the while discarding Sameen’s clothes piece by piece with quick hands. Sameen sucked in a shallow breath as she felt cold air meet heated skin where her shirt and bra had been seconds before and then the feeling of near blunted claws scoring down her chest, across her breasts and nipples, drawing thin red rivulets of blood to the surface in their wake. Shaw gasped as Root bent forward and licked at one of the shallow cuts she’d made, whimpering and angling her hips into Sameen’s.   

 

Shaw snarled and yanked at the button to Root’s jeans, pulling until the catch was undone and the zipper broke open. She pulled on the material until long legs were free of denim and moved back in, covering Root’s mouth again with her own. Root’s hands grasped Shaw’s ass and guided her hips into the space between her thighs. Their lips broke apart again and Root placed hot opened mouth kisses against Shaw’s neck and jaw, both enticing and possessing, dominating and submitting, owning and belonging as her hands worked to get Shaw’s pants from out between them. Sameen nuzzled Root’s jawline, biting the sensitive skin below her ear in a way that drove Root to paw at the material of Shaw’s pants until they were open enough to fall down to mid-thigh.

 

Shaw didn’t waste any time. She reached down and grasped Root’s thighs, lifting her and pushing inside, whining involuntarily as she felt Root’s inner muscles tighten around her distended clitoris and her arms and legs wrap Shaw into a tight embrace. The first thrust was quick and shallow, driven by the sting of Root’s claws as one of her hands gravitated up to Shaw’s lower spine and buried itself into the taunt muscles there. Sameen gripped the hair at the base of Root’s neck and yanked harshly forward until they were pressed forehead to forehead, mouth to mouth, gasping for air like they were both drowning. Shaw’s hips thrust again, this time deeply, then again, and again, pumping into Root at a frantic pace.

 

Root tightened her legs around Shaw, drawing them impossibly closer together. The fire inside of them both ebbed and flowed, gave and took, fighting to be answered. Root clung to Shaw and rode her hard, inner muscles engulfing Shaw’s clit, keeping them locked together. Shaw thrust faster, wildly, until she felt the long dormant glands on either side of her clitoris expand. She cleaved into Root, feeling her conscious mind begin to fade away and pure instinct take its place. The need to come, to release inside of Root overwhelmed the desire to prolong the pleasure of their encounter and Shaw buried her face in the crook of Root’s neck as her hips took on an aggressive rhythm of their own.

 

 Unconsciously, Root sank her canines into Sameen’s shoulder and the exquisite pain that produced pushed Shaw over the edge. Sameen was lost. The first contraction hit and she emptied, hips continuing to pump up into Root as she came inside her, releasing her essence and with it, a flood of genetic material specific only to her. Root was just as lost, letting out a choked moan as the intense orgasm came over her in a wave. She licked at the bite she’d made in Shaw’s shoulder and bore down on her clit, milking Shaw mercilessly, making Shaw stiffen inside of her, then empty again seconds later with a pained whimper. 

 

The second orgasm was more potent than the first causing Shaw’s knees to buckle and before she even knew what was happening they were both on the floor, Root cradling Shaw’s exhausted body as she struggled to catch her breath. Sameen came back to consciousness minutes later, her head comfortably nestled into the junction of Root’s neck, not seeming to mind that Root’s arms and legs were still holding her in a possessive embrace. Feeling Sameen stir, Root kissed the side of her jaw. Shaw let out a shallow breath as a warm swell of something rose up in her chest and her hips rolled lazily on impulse, feeling her oversensitive clitoris twitch inside of Root and the tall brunette’s content rumble as fingers caressed the exposed skin of Sameen’s back.

 

Shaw knew she should move, disentangle herself before this thing with Root, whatever it was, went any further than it already had, but for some reason Sameen couldn’t bring herself to move away. The way Root was holding her was both needy and protective, as if she understood that Sameen was more vulnerable than she knew and would do anything to keep her safe. They stayed locked together for ten or so minutes, not saying anything. In that time, Sameen noticed a marked difference in how her body behaved with Root as opposed to former lovers. It was like they just seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces. Every unhurried movement, every jostling of limbs that fit so perfectly together it seemed almost impossible to tell where one of them ended and the other began, seemed to tip Shaw off that this encounter wasn’t simply a one and done deal.

 

The air was awash with a combination of their mixed scents and sex, but the fierce tang of breeding pheromones was suspiciously absent from the room. The human part of Shaw didn’t want to think about why that was, but the wolf part of her instinctively knew. She felt it in her bones just as simply as she felt that Root was a part of her, that they belonged together whether Shaw wanted to admit to it or not. Shaw nuzzled closer to Root, licking up the long column of her neck and feeling the tall brunette arch beneath her.  She stopped short of Root’s ear and pressed a kiss to the lobe.

 

“This doesn’t mean I’ll submit to you,” Shaw whispered, some part of her remaining defiant in the face of this new bond she’d tried so hard to avoid.

 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, sweetie,” Root cooed.

 

Sameen lifted herself up onto her elbows and stared down into Root’s eyes, very conscious of the fact that their bodies were still joined together. She could have just avoided Root and not said anything until they were able to separate. If Root had been anyone else, Shaw might have done that, but because she was Root, Shaw couldn’t ignore her even if she tried.

 

“Why me?” Shaw asked seriously. “You could have chosen anyone to be your mate, why would you want me?”

 

Root responded by pulling Shaw down into a kiss. She nipped at Shaw’s bottom lip and her mouth opened automatically, allowing Root to deepen it and entwine their tongues together.

 

“That’s why,” Root said when they broke apart. “Because you’re you and you’re perfect to me.”

 

Shaw had never been someone who was taken to romanticism. In fact, she avoided sentiment like the plague. There was something in her genetic makeup that rebelled against corniness, but Root’s words didn’t register on the same level. Instead they hit her like a sledgehammer and settled somewhere deep inside of her. Sameen searched Root’s eyes for any sign that she might have not meant the words, a sign that maybe she was joking or toying with her, but all she saw was naked sincerity and that was enough for her.

 

Shaw bent down for another kiss, allowing her body to sink into Root’s. Root groaned as Sameen rolled her hips slowly and one of her hands found Root’s breast and began to knead it. This wasn’t about answering a biological imperative anymore. It was about something else. Root grasped at Shaw’s back as Sameen repositioned herself, bowing over Root so that her hips could thrust down at a different angle. Root pulled back, breathing heavily, seeing the fire in Shaw’s eyes as she pushed into Root at a languid pace. There was something different there. When they’d tangled in the woods, there’d been hatred, anger. When they’d fucked against the bookshelf, there’d been pure wanton lust, but now there was something fierce and gentle at work between them at the same time. Now, there was love and this wasn’t just a quick fuck to satisfy an instinct to reproduce, it was gentler almost a consummation, which was something neither of them had ever planned for or thought was for them.

 

Root felt a lump form in her throat and her eyes began to sting as though she might cry.

 

“Sameen…” She started, willing to say something she’d never said to anyone before in her life, not even Hanna.

 

“Shh, I know,” Shaw said.

 

Then Root felt Shaw roll her nipple between her thumb and forefinger and she let out a stilted cry as her eyes rolled back into her head. Shaw slowed the movement of her hips and bent down, sucking the tall brunette’s other nipple into her mouth. Root gasped out her name and Sameen doubled her ministrations, using both of her hands to knead Root’s breasts and moving her mouth to her neck. Shaw continued like this, feeling her clit harden again as the little sounds Root was making beneath her began to increase in volume, then finally Root’s hands cupped her face and brought them eye to eye.

 

“Please,” Root begged, pushing her center up into Shaw where they were still joined together. “I need you.”

 

Shaw moved her hands to Root’s waist, cupping her ass and holding them together while staring down into her eyes. Then she began to move, thrusting slowly, deeply. It took all of Sameen’s considerable willpower not to increase the pace she was setting, but Root had chosen her. Root had faith in her, a faith Sameen knew she didn’t deserve. To be honest, Root deserved more than Shaw thought she was capable of giving, and she was going to give Root everything she had even if she died trying. Shaw adjusted her hips to a different angle and thrust down harder.

 

“Fuck, Sameen,” Root whimpered.

 

An ache settled deep inside Shaw at Root’s words and her clit twitched and swelled. She was burning from the inside out. Her mate needed her. _Hers_. And she was going to give her whatever she needed. Sameen gripped one of Root’s legs under the knee and plunged into her as deep as she could go. Her forehead dropped to Root’s chest and her hips pumped forward, faster. Instinct took over as her pleasure began to rise and Sameen found herself careening into Root, being spurred on by her whines until Root’s claws dug into her lower back and she lost herself, hips jerking violently as she emptied. Root felt her own orgasm overtake her and she held onto Sameen like she was the only thing that tethered her to the world.

 

Shaw didn’t come back from unconsciousness as quickly this time. When she did, she felt Root’s arms tighten around her.

 

“I love you, Sam,” Root breathed against the top of Shaw’s head.

 

“I…” Shaw felt her throat tighten at the words. She wanted to say them, but she’d never said them before in her life and so much change had happened to her all in one day.

 

“It’s okay, Sam.” Root said, caressing the hair at the base of Shaw’s neck tenderly. “I know.”

 

 

When Harold returned an hour or so later, he knew immediately that something was off. It was too quiet.

 

Bear was still in the lobby where he’d been ordered to stay, but other than that the place seemed entirely too empty. Harold hobbled over to his desk and the monitors he’d set up to keep watch over Root while she was in their custody. The first thing he noticed was that the cage door was wide open. The second thing he took note of was that the cage itself was unoccupied and neither Root or Sameen were anywhere to be found.

 

OOOOOOOO

 

_Four Months Later…_

 

John ran through the underbrush, his wolf easily speeding over the uneven terrain, mouth open, tasting the world on the air. They’d spent months tracking Root and Shaw across three states, but somehow they were always ahead of him and Harold. About two weeks ago, they’d caught a lucky break and picked up their scents again in upstate New York. Now, John was hot on a trail he was sure would lead him to Shaw. It wasn’t like Sameen to be careless and he could only assume that if they’d stopped out in this densely wooded area, it was either because Root and Shaw couldn’t continue or because they’d thought they’d be safe here.

 

Then again, John couldn’t assume much. He still wasn’t entirely sure why Shaw had left or even if she’d left of her own free will. He and Harold had a couple of theories as to what actually happened that night, but what seemed most apparent by the smell of sex in the cage is that Shaw had given into Root in her heat and then Root had either overpowered Sameen or Sameen had come with her willingly. Either way, John wasn’t feeling overly generous toward Root and if he could just get Shaw away from her, he was sure they could go back to their lives as they had been.

 

He stopped in his tracks and perked his ears up, listening. There was a faint sound on the wind. It wasn’t horribly close to him, but it was something other than breaking twigs and singing birds, which was promising.

 

John trotted forward, keeping his ears up, continuing to listen as he moved forward.  A mile or so away, he came across a clearing that was surrounded on two sides by a hill. The side he was approaching was the most unguarded, which made John wary. He lowered his head and continued at a slower pace. While moving through the underbrush, he heard the sounds of scuffling, and what sounded like howling, but it was high pitched and feeble.

 

John raised his head and perked his ears up again. Just over the leaves of the bushes that were concealing him, he saw two pups. Both were large enough to have just come into their own coat colors, but young enough that their bodies hadn’t quite grown into their ears yet. One was grey and one was black. Both of them were old enough that they could wander a little ways from a den and not be in immediate danger, but at the same time they were too young to defend themselves against anything larger than a fox on their own.

John took a few steps back, sniffing the air and that’s when he caught it. A familiar scent. A black wolf was laying at the base of one of the hills. John didn’t need to get any closer to know who it was. He immediately recognized it as Shaw.

 

 The pups scuffled, growling, and whining. The grey one pushed over the black one, latching onto an overly large ear. The black pup cried and raced off in the direction of Shaw, leaving her sister scampering behind her. Shaw raised her head as the black pup climbed over her feet, not overly concerned by the now familiar play fighting that seemed like it was a 24/7 thing with her offspring.

 

John whined, shifting his weight from paw to paw uneasily. He had an urge to go down and meet the pups.

 

Young were a welcome addition to any pack and part of him was excited to meet them, but the other more cautious part of him knew that if he went down there he might not necessarily receive a warm welcome. Shaw had left their pack after all and even though John now was fairly certain he knew why, he didn’t feel like he knew her anymore. Of course, the variable that he was more worried about was Root. If she was around, and there was no reason to think she wasn’t, John was sure Root would immediately perceive him as a threat no matter what.

 

Shaw laid her head back down and appeared like she might have a chance to doze. The grey pup was chewing on a weed, trying to uproot it with paws and small white teeth, but her sister was more engrossed in Shaw. The little black pup was pawing at Shaw’s muzzle, its little tail beating the dirt as it attempted to play a game Sameen looked like she was definitely not amused with. Shaw moved her head away slightly, but the pup followed her, licking the side of her muzzle. When Shaw didn’t react, the black pup appeared to lose interest. It looked like Sameen might actually get to rest, but the little grey pup came barreling out of nowhere and climbed onto Shaw’s neck, stepping all over her like her fur was nothing more than a bed of grass and nipping at the side of her mouth.

 

If John had been in human form he would have chuckled. Shaw waited until the grey pup was mostly off of her and then got up. She made a half-hearted attempt to put some distance between her and her overly attached pups, but they followed every step she took with enthusiasm, trailing her with wagging tails and lolling tongues. John took a step back and heard a twig snap beneath one of his paws. Immediately, he froze and so did Shaw.

 

Sameen stopped walking, her posture straightened and her ears rose. John waited, refusing to move as Shaw did the same only a hundred or so feet ahead of him. She looked around, listened, sniffed the air, growled, and then she was running right towards him. John didn’t know what to do. He didn’t pull back his ears and growl back, but Shaw wasn’t above him in rank and he wasn’t about to just roll over and show her his belly. She got a foot or so in front of the bushes and slowed to a cautious stop. She knew it was him, she had to know it was him.

 

John raised his head and took a weary few steps forward until his nose and muzzle were clear of leaves. Now that they were closer, John immediately noticed the changes in her. Shaw’s wolf was leaner, more muscle and sinew than she was before and her posture was also straighter, more dominant with her tail raised in the air level with her head. Harold had suspicions when he’d first met Root that she was an Alpha and if she was and Shaw was her mate that would account for the changes in her behavior. John continued advancing forward, taking baby steps, head lowered, but not entirely submissive either. When he got close enough, he sniffed her neck and she didn’t snap at him or bare her teeth. She didn’t treat his wolf like a stranger and that gave him confidence.

 

The pups had followed Shaw when she’d taken off at a run at first, but they’d stopped a few feet away. Their instincts made them naturally wary of anything that wasn’t their parents and John’s wolf was large enough that he could kill them if he wanted to and they knew it. The little gray one watched the exchange, standing ramrod still, but the black pup whimpered and took a daring step forward towards Sameen. Shaw looked behind her and trotted back to where the pups stood in the grass. Shaw was a fierce fighter and though she hadn’t welcomed him, she hadn’t attacked him when she could of either, so John trotted after her, encouraged.

 

The gray pup took one look at John’s approaching gait and ran away in the other direction, racing back towards a cave within a hollowed out tree in the hillside that John would have bet money on was their den. The black one looked afraid, but it stayed where it was, its courage bolstered by Shaw’s nearby presence. John walked up to her, careful not to make any quick movements that might alarm the small pup. It whimpered when he took a step too close at first, but after a short standoff, it took a step toward him and lifted its head to sniff at him. John nudged the pup with his nose and it almost fell over before letting out an indignant growl and pushing back against his nose with her paws, rearing up to gnaw on his muzzle. Yup, this one definitely took after Shaw.  

 

John raised his head and looked around. Where was Root?

 

She couldn’t be far away. She wouldn’t have to go far to hunt and that meant she could likely find him at any moment. While Shaw seemed confident enough around him to let him play with one of her pups while she moved back to the den to check on the other, John knew given their past history, that Root wouldn’t feel the same way. Technically, he was trespassing and trespassing on a den site wasn’t usually tolerated by Alpha pairs. At the very least, Root would chase him off. If he had to fight her John could. His wolf was bigger. If they fought, John might get hurt or worse hurt her and then Shaw would likely turn on him not necessarily because she wanted to, but because Root was her mate and that trumped whatever John and Shaw were to one another. John was in a precarious position and he was overly aware of it with every passing moment.

 

Harold had entered the forest with John when they’d both shed skin in search of anything that would lead them to Shaw, but they’d both split up and gone different directions. If Harold was there then John would have had back up against Root when she finally came home, but Harold was also an Alpha and his presence might immediately make Root more defensive than she was already sure to be. John hesitated in following Shaw back to the den because he knew it wasn’t wise, but the black pup lunged forward and playfully nipped at his leg and when he snapped benignly back in response she raced in the direction of Shaw, turning around to see if he would follow.

 

John had always liked children. He’d hoped to join a pack someday when he got out of the military, find a mate, and have pups of his own, but that hadn’t happened for him.

 

When John didn’t follow immediately, the black pup became confused and doubled back for him. She lunged at his legs again, wove between them, and bounded away yelping excitedly like she’d known him her entire life. Sameen was sitting by the entrance of the den, watching the exchange with the focus a predator would devote to pray. It made John feel slightly uncomfortable, at the thought that Shaw might see him as a possible threat to her pups, but he was glad she was at least permitting him to socialize with them.  

 

The gray pup was laying in the mouth of the den watching him too as he moved closer. John moved forward a few feet then stopped, looked around, took a few steps forward and repeated the pattern. Despite the frequent delays, the black pup seemed determined to get John’s attention and keep it. Every time he stopped, the pup would race back for him and jump, aiming for his ears with her teeth. Once she caught one ear in her teeth and yanked, John had no choice but to neglect vigilance in favor of trying to shake her off of him. On the pup’s last attempt, John pushed her to the ground with one massive paw and she rolled over, racing back towards Shaw.  

 

Sameen stood and watched as her most adventurous pup scurried back in her direction. She pranced over, meeting the pup halfway, checking her over for possible injuries. The black pup was fine though and ran off, pouncing on her sister, the two of them jostling, and snarling as they went back to the play fighting that was their day to day routine. Sameen’s ears pulled back and she snarled. John took a step back, not sure what he’d done to draw her ire, but it wasn’t him she was growling at.

 

He looked behind him and saw Harold’s wolf, sleek and brown tread through the underbrush in their direction. Sameen hadn’t exactly welcomed John, but she wasn’t as indifferent to Harold’s presence as she had been to his. She should have been happy to see him, John thought, after all they had all been packmates, even friends once upon a time. The pups stopped playing and sat up, watching as Harold continued to walk forward and Shaw began to circle him and gnash her teeth. Harold stopped and barked back at Shaw, tail raised, standing tall. He and her were about the same size, but Shaw was a soldier and she could take him in a fight if need be.

 

The grey pup started to cry and before long the black pup was simpering in fear. John didn’t know what was going on, but he didn’t want them to feel that way because he knew they didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t the enemy here and neither was Harold. Without thinking much about the consequences, John moved over to the pups and began to nuzzle them. The contact seemed to calm the black one and she quieted, but it made the grey one cry louder and she let out a series of high pitched howls. John was too preoccupied by the sound to hear the pawsteps hurrying towards him from behind. He felt the teeth as they sank viciously into his shoulder and yelped, twisting away.

 

John snarls and bolts a few steps from the den before turning around and catching a glimpse of the sleek grey wolf with keen brown eyes and a white muzzle speckled in blood chasing aggressively after him. Root. John hadn’t seen her in wolf form before, but he knew her scent and felt the burn in his shoulder where her teeth had torn into his flesh. Root stalked him twenty or so feet before John lost his temper and turned on her.  He snapped back at her, diving low and catching one of Root’s forelegs between his jaws. She yelped in pain, but to her credit Root didn’t give up. Instead, she charged him and bit down on the back of his neck and pulled until John fell over into the dirt and let go of her leg entirely, trying to throw her off of him. He shakes her, but before he can strike at her again, he sees Shaw out of the corner of his eyes lunging for him. He feels the sting of her teeth in his flank before he is able to move out of the way.

 

John had known this was a bad move, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. He could take Root down, but if he did, he’d lose Shaw’s friendship forever. He tries to run away, but Shaw’s teeth in his backside keep him anchored in place. Root circles, limping slightly and snarling. As soon as Root bounds toward him, John feels Shaw let him go and instead of staying and fighting, John does what he never thought he would, he faces Root and bows his head, surrendering. She doesn’t trust him though and bowls him over, growling, and snapping at him. John takes the hint and races off for the cover of the underbrush. Harold follows him in retreat.

 

It’s dark by the time they get back to the isolated road where they’d left John’s truck and Harold and John are both exhausted. They shed pelt and John opens up the trunk, pulling out two pairs of clothes and tossing one to Harold. They dress in silence and drive themselves to a motel in a nearby town. Once they’ve secured a room and tossed their stuff into a corner, John sinks down into one of the beds.

 

“Well, that went well,” Harold says sardonically, carefully settling his tired body down into a desk chair.

 

“I think we can throw out the theory of Shaw being an unwilling participant in Root’s escape,” John sighs, rubbing at the healing bite mark on his shoulder.

 

“Indeed Though a den site near the mountains does explain why we’ve only been able to track them up until this point.”

 

“They went completely off grid,” John thought back to his time with the CIA. “Why would she let me get close just to turn around and bite me in the ass, literally?”

 

Harold shrugged his shoulders, “Who knows why, Ms. Shaw does anything anymore, Mr. Reese.”

 

“She almost attacked you,” John stated, sitting up and staring directly at Harold.

 

“She restrained herself and knowing Ms. Shaw and her particular skill set, I can only imagine that she was trying to warn me off coming any closer. Given my past dealings with, Ms. Groves, my presence quite possibly could have aggravated the situation more than it already did had she found only me there instead of you.”

 

“Shaw won’t come back with us now that she has a family,” John said, sounding a little sad.

 

“Perhaps or maybe in time, when Ms. Groves has overcome her hostilities, they might gravitate back to us. Only time will tell.”


End file.
